The Angel, The Witch, and the Winchesters
by DannaVsSanna
Summary: While working a case in a small town in Illinois, Sam & Dean cross paths with a witch. Dean has his suspicions, but Sam has a different opinion. From there, Dean falls in love, and the duo become a trio. When a beautiful girl enters the picture, will the brothers let her come between them? Rated M for future chapters. Dean/OC, Sam/OC
1. It Started With a Case

(Sam's POV)

I woke up to the sound of an alarm clock blaring. Like every other morning lately, it was blaring in my ear at 6:45AM. Slamming my hand down on the off button, I groggily sat up and stretched out my neck. No matter how long me and my brother spent in motel rooms, I never could get used to the crappy sleep provided by cheap beds. Even worse, though, was waking at such an early hour after only arriving in town five and a half hours before. But the sooner we awoke, the sooner we could make our way back home to Bobby's – unless, of course, a new case turned up along the way.

Routinely, I showered and brushed my teeth, got dressed, and opened my laptop, checking the news. If there were no cases in a town nearby, I'd give Dean a half hour to sleep in, or else put up with him being cranky all day.

"No such luck," I muttered, my eyes skimming the article headlines.

 _'TOWN IN PANIC AFTER GRIZZLY MURDER'_

 _That always sounds promising,_ I thought sarcastically. Sighing, I got up and grabbed a pillow from my bed, throwing it at Dean. He groaned as the pillow nailed him right on the head. "Get up. We've got work to do."

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, looked at the time, and sighed. "Seriously? Can't we have work to do in ten minutes?"

"A person's dead _now_ , Dean," I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, well they'll still be dead in ten minutes," he grumbled.

I shook my head at his insensitivity. "Just listen, would you?" Quoting the article, I began. "A small town in Illinois is in utter shock and panic after the disappearance of 22 year old Kenny Hutchings has turned out to be a grizzly murder investigation. Police and citizens alike are scratching heads, as Kenny Hutchings was a well liked man, with no known enemies. An investigation is still underway, but so far it seems to be bringing rise to more questions than answers."

"Okay," Dean said as he pulled a shirt over his head, "but how does that at all sound like our kind of thing?"

I wheeled around in my chair, turning from the screen with disgust. "Because he was drained of all his blood, and his eyes were missing."

Dean nodded smugly. "Okay, yeah, that would make it our kind of thing. So what are we thinking? A vamp with an eye fetish?"

I chuckled. "Not likely. I say we go take a look at the body, see what kinda stuff the news article might've left out."

"Is it close?"

I scanned the article again, looking for the town name. I'd seen that it was in Illinois, but my eyes had scanned over the rest. "Uh, yeah," I replied as I found it. "We're already here."

"Well, that's lucky," Dean said, adding as an afterthought, "or, unlucky, depending on what happens in the next forty-eight hours or so."


	2. When All Else Fails

***A/N: Hey guys! So I forgot to mention in the last chapter that this story is separate from the show's timeline. It doesn't follow the current events and it probably won't mention past ones either (though I can't guarantee it). Aside from the obvious two, Bobby, Castiel, and Crowley will play significant roles, so as long as you're familiar with those three, you should understand everything and there won't be any spoilers! Enjoy!***

(Dean's POV)

We made our way to the coroner's office, stopping off for breakfast along the way. Stepping out of Baby, I rolled my shoulders – the scrunched up fabric of my monkey suit was driving me nuts. I hated wearing suits, and of course it was the one thing we had to wear most often. Tugging at the fabric of my jacket, I looked at Sam. "Man, wouldn't life be so much easier if FBI agents wore t-shirts and jeans?"

He rolled his eyes, like usual. "Yeah, cause that's professional."

"It's not – that's the point. Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can change out of this damned suit."

Inside the coroner's office, a small, fragile looking girl sat behind the receptionist desk, shuffling through some papers and filing them away. She had a sort of mousy look to her. All her features were very delicate – a small nose, thin lips, and bright green eyes that only appeared larger by the mascara used to thicken her lashes. Long brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders, drawing my eyes to the seam of her top. _Not as small as your facial features – good to know,_ I thought with a smirk.

"Can I help you boys with something?" she asked, peeking up over the edge of the counter.

"Oh, I would imagine you can..." I muttered, flinching as Sam jutted his elbow into my side. Clearing my throat, I reached into my jacket for my badge, Sam doing the same. "We're here to see the body of Kenny Hutchings. Mind taking us to it?"

"Oh, I can't," she stammered nervously, "but Dr. Canning should be back in just a second, if you don't mind waiting."

I smiled at her and nodded. _She's shy. Cute_. Oh the fun I could have flirting with a shy girl... if Sam wasn't so strictly business, at least. He gave me a knowing look.

"When you're not in the suit, then you can flirt," he whispered.

"See? Suits ruin everything. Nobody was ever told not to flirt while wearing jeans and a t-shirt."

Around the corner came a bald, aging man in a white lab coat. "Gentlemen," he nodded.

"Dr. Canning," I greeted, flipping out my fake badge again. "I'm Agent Perry, this is Agent McCafferty. We're here to take a look at the Hutchings kid."

"I see," he muttered, uncomfortable at the mention of the name. "I suppose I don't need to ask why this is a Feds case," he said as he began leading us down the hallway. The receptionist glanced up at me and I flashed her one last smile. "I've been a coroner for thirty-eight years, boys, but I've never seen anything quite like this," the coroner continued. He opened a door, inside each wall covered with smaller, metal doors. Searching for the right number, he paused, pulling out on the handle.

Sam and I turned our heads when Dr. Canning lifted the sheet, caught off guard by the unsettling sight. Even for us, sometimes these cases could get a bit too much.

"Doctor, what could have done something like this?" Sam asked, disturbed. Why he bothered asking, I had no idea. It obviously wasn't something human. The guy was whiter than the sheet that covered him – not a drop of blood left in him. But it was the eyes that were disturbing. Well, the two gaping holes where the eyes would be. The guy's whole face was mauled – it looked like it was hacked to pieces just to get the eyes out.

"I wish I knew, boys. But that's what you're here for, right?"

I glanced at Sam. "Thanks, Doc," I said. "We'll take it from here. We don't wanna keep you from your work."

The coroner nodded, and after he left Sam locked the door behind him so no one would walk in on anything they weren't supposed to see or hear. Using one of the coroner's tools on the silver table in the room, I pushed the guy's head to the side, and then the other side. I raised an eyebrow. "No bite marks. Do we know of anything else that drinks blood?"

Sam shook his head. "Not anything that wouldn't leave some kind of mark. Should we check for EMF?"

I nodded. "When all else fails, check for everything."

A half hour and a bunch of inconclusive test results later, we covered the body back up and pushed him back into the metal contraption. A little frustrated, I asked, "So do you have any ideas, Sammy? Cause I sure as hell got nothin'."

Sam crinkled his nose, sighing. "I dunno, witchcraft maybe?"

"It's the best lead we've got."

"Yeah, now we just need a lead on _who_ the suspect is, instead of _what_."

We left the room and continued down the hallway, pausing at an open door where the Doc was sitting at a cluttery computer desk. I knocked on the wall and he looked up. "You boys all finished up?"

"Uh, yeah, all done here, at least," I nodded. "Listen, Doc. Seeing as we're already here I was hoping you could save us a trip back down to the police station. Any chance you know of the suspects in this case? Anyone with the slightest bit of motive?"

The man adjusted his glasses and frowned. "Suspects? No, I just determine a cause of death – I don't like to get involved any further. Though, I couldn't even do that much, this time. There doesn't appear to be any sort of wounds for the blood to escape, except for the eyes, but that seems highly unlikely..." The Doc began muttering, now, seeming to talk more to himself then to us.

"Doc?" I reminded him of our presence. He jolted. _Scatterbrain._

"You know, guys, I would say try talking to his girlfriend; I think her name was Lizzy Styles. She's usually at the bar two streets over. Might save you a little gas compared to the police station. Police said she was the last person to see him before he went missing, so she can probably tell you something."

"Thank you," Sam said, waving as we left.

I frowned at the lack of cute girl at the reception desk on the way out. _Must be on her lunch_.

"We're making a stop first, by the way," I said to my brother as we climbed into the Impala.

"Where to?"

"Somewhere I can change out of this damn suit."


	3. Enter Lizzy Styles, Rocker Chick

***A/N: Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own any of these song lyrics. All rights go to respected parties, including Lizzy Hale and her band Halestorm. Please leave a comment or thumbs up and share it with your friends! :)**

 **(Dean's POV)**

"You know, when the Doc said this chick would be at the bar across town, at this hour in the day, I thought he meant like she worked here or something. I wasn't expecting the town to have a twenty-four hour punk-rock bar with a decent sized crowd." More relaxed, dressed in our regular attire, Sam and I figured we'd have an easy time fitting in at a bar. But judging by what we could see through the windows, I was thinking not so much.

Sam smirked. "You say that like you've never been in a bar this early."

"Well, yeah, but that's different!"

"Dean, you _live_ for twenty-four hour bar service," he chuckled, opening the door to the dimly lit place.

Inside, the music was blaring, strobe lights flashing across the dance floor. The two of us tried to shuffle through the crowd, with absolutely no idea who we were looking for. We made our way towards the front of the room where a live band was performing and there was a small gap of space. I nudged Sam, gesturing to the area. He nodded and followed. A small group of people were leaning on the stage, chatting and smoking, with alcohol in hand.

"Hey, can we bug you for a second?" Sam yelled to one of them as we got closer.

The guy nodded. He was obviously punk-rock, much like the music that was playing. Tattoos covered him from head to toe, as did several eyebrow, ear and nose piercings. He wore ripped baggy jeans and a black wife beater. Talking to us though, he seemed friendly enough. "Sure, what can I do for ya?"

"We're looking for someone by the name of Lizzy Styles – we were told we could find her here. Do you know her?" I asked.

The guy looked us up and down and laughed. "You guys aren't from around here, are you?"

"What gave that away?" Sam asked cautiously.

The guy pointed to the stage behind him, specifically at the singer. "Lizzy Styles? That's the rock goddess you're looking for. There isn't anyone in this town who _doesn't_ know her."

"Huh," I looked at the girl singing. Her hair was a rustic orange color, with blonde streaks throughout. She was tall – long legs and a slender body, her high heel pumps giving her a few extra inches. Her light wash jeans were skin tight, ripped at the knees, and she sported an American flag tank top. To keep it short, she was gorgeous. The music she sang wasn't really my style, but her voice was enough to make me listen. There was a kind of growl in her voice – it was powerful. A big sound for someone so petite.

When the current song was over, the crowd roared and cheered. "Alright, alright. Tone it down, guys," she laughed. "Okay, we've got time for one more song before a much, _much_ less talented band comes out." Chuckles erupted from the whole bar. "Does anybody have a request?"

The punk guy looked at us with awe. "You know, she's not talking about just any request, either! She can make a song up on the spot about _anything_. The band starts playing and she just starts singing."

"You serious?" Sam asked him, disbelieving.

I looked back to the stage. I highly doubted this guy was right, but out of curiosity, I shouted, "Yeah, I've got a request!"

Lizzy looked down at me. "'M'kay, what is it?"

"Write a song about us," I smirked, pointing at Sam.

She raised an eyebrow, kneeling down to my level. "What's your name?"

"Dean."

"And your boyfriend's?"

I blinked a couple times, pursing my lips together. Did this chick really think I was gay? "Sam," I mumbled, "and he's actually my brother. I, uh, I don't float that way," I tried to shrug it off.

Her purple lips curved into a smirk. "Well that's awkward. Tell me a bit about yourselves."

Sam glanced my way and then back at her. "Well, uh, we're from Lawrence in Kansas, mid twenties but Dean's older," he murmured, not sure what exactly she was looking for.

"No, no, no. Like, what do you guys do? What are your interests? I can't make a song with your Wikipedia bios."

"Alright, well, um, I went to Stanford for Law, but I dropped out of that. We travel a lot, go to a lot of bars... Um, Dean likes old rock & metal kind of music..."

"Okay," Lizzy rose again. "I can work with that." She turned to the band holding up two fingers. The band-mates all looked at each other, somehow agreeing on a beat with a single glance. The drums and guitar started, and Lizzy grabbed the microphone from the stand, nodding her head and getting a feel for the beat.

 _Friday night boys and the PBR_

 _Chasing Jack, getting wrecked in small town bars_

She hopped off the stage, strutting towards me, looking me up and down.

 _Big city roller in NYC_

 _You're a sharp-dressed man just like ZZ_

 _Harley riding biker in a leather jacket_

 _Like riding bitch_

 _You're sitting on the back, yeah_

Not entirely accurate, but I gave her points for trying. Next she went to Sam, circling around him as she sang.

 _Pretty boys at the university_

 _Watching them walk in their Levi jeans_

 _Yeah, yeah,_

 _I can't help but fall_

 _Yeah, yeah_

 _God bless 'em all_

She took a few more steps closer, forcing me to fall back on a chair behind me. Knocking over the table next to it, she sat on my lap and leaned in, looking directly at me as she sang.

 _American boys_

 _Gotta love 'em, gotta need 'em_

 _Gotta want 'em_

 _They're my drug of choice_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah_

 _American boys_

 _Wanna slay 'em, wanna lay 'em_

 _Wanna play 'em,_

 _They're my favorite toys_

 _American, American boys_

Lizzy stood up again, this time singing to the crowd's attention, though she still waved her hand my way.

 _Metal head boys in the back of a Camaro_

 _Banging to Metallica on the radio_

She gestured from me to the punk-looking guy Sam and I were talking to, whose eyes immediately lit up. This dude clearly worshiped her.

 _From an all-star stud to a punk like you_

 _We've got so many flavors that I just can't choose_

Lizzy walked around on the floor as she sang, rather than returning to the stage. It was obvious she loved the attention she was getting from the crowd. I wouldn't mind giving her some attention of my own, but not until our work here was finished – we came here to question her about her deceased boyfriend. Flirting with her would be in poor taste.

 _Yeah, yeah_

 _They rock the world_

 _Of this American girl_

 _American boys_

 _Gotta love 'em, gotta need 'em_

 _Gotta want 'em_

 _They're my drug of choice_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah_

 _American boys_

 _Wanna slay 'em, wanna lay 'em_

 _Wanna play 'em_

 _They're my favorite toys_

 _American, American boys_

A wicked guitar solo ensued, and Lizzy returned to sitting on my lap once more. This time though, she smirked, leaning in and kissing me. _Screw it,_ I thought, _you never had much class anyway. Kiss her back!_ The crowd whistled and cheered, and as the guitar solo was coming to a close Lizzy pulled back with a wink. She stood up again, leaving me dumbfounded for a minute, wanting her lips on mine again.

 _I've been everywhere_

 _And nothing compares_

 _(American boys)_

 _Nothing like 'em_

 _Rock me like 'em, yeah_

 _(American boys)_

 _Come on, make a move_

 _Yeah, yeah_

 _Do what you do_

 _American boys_

 _Gotta love 'em, gotta need 'em_

 _Gotta want 'em_

 _They're my drug of choice_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah_

 _American boys_

 _Wanna slay 'em, wanna lay 'em_

 _Wanna play 'em_

 _They're my favorite toys_

 _American boys_

 _American boys_

 _Gotta love 'em, gotta need 'em_

 _Gotta want 'em_

 _They're my favorite toys_

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah_

 _American boys_

 _Wanna slay 'em, wanna lay 'em_

 _Wanna play 'em_

 _They're my favorite toys_

 _American, American boys_

 _American boys_

Sam and I looked at each other, stunned and surprised. "I told you she could do it," punk-guy said smugly.

"Yeah, that's nice, Chuckles," I mumbled, not taking my eyes off of Lizzy. She was finally reunited with her band onstage, thanking the crowd and getting ready to pack up their band equipment. Once the lights over the stage dimmed, Lizzy walked off the stage to join us again.

"I put on quite a show, huh?" she said to me, winking.

I smiled, looking her up and down. "Yeah, you sure did..." Sam dug his elbow into my side, yet again. "But that's not why we're here. We're with the FBI."

"What, seriously?" she snorted.

The two of us held up our badges for her to see.

"Shit. Well that would've been something song-worthy to mention," she glanced at Sam.

He brushed the comment aside, getting right down to business, as usual. "We wanted to ask you a few questions about your boyfriend's death. You were the last person to see Kenny Hutchings, correct?"

"Well, as far as we know, yeah."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Lizzy shrugged. "Well, he was missing for a couple days, right? _Somebody_ else had to see him. Anybody could've stopped by his house after I dropped him off – if he's dead they're not gonna own up to that and get involved with a federal case. I'm just the last person you can _trace_ back through his phone records is all."

I eyed her suspiciously. "I take it you're not a big fan of police work, are you?"

"Not really."

"Miss Styles," Sam continued, "did Kenny have any enemies? Anybody that might want to hurt him?"

"Not as far as I know. He was a good guy. Though, nobody knows what he did behind closed doors, so... maybe."

"Miss Styles – "

She laughed. "Call me Lizzy, seriously. Miss Styles sounds so old."

I smirked at her attitude as Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "Oookay... _Lizzy_ , forgive me for saying this, but you don't exactly seem... _upset_."

I cocked my head at this. Sam raised an interesting point. Most women wouldn't be onstage singing and making out with complete strangers just a few days after their boyfriend had been murdered.

"Look," she sighed, "in all honesty? You should be talking to his ex, Kaitlyn. Me and Kenny had only been going out for a few months. They were together for four _years_. She knows a lot more about him than I do."

"Sure, but listen," I started, pulling a card out of my wallet and giving it to her, "if you think of anything we should know, give us a call."

"Maybe when you're off duty," she winked, turning away with a smile.

Sam rolled his eyes. Man, he loved doing that. We left the bar where we could hear each other speak without yelling, stopping just outside the door to trade theories. Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay, so if we're going with witch, add her to the suspect list. She doesn't have a trace of sympathy for the vic."

Of course he suspects her already. It's always the hot ones. "I don't know if I'd add her to the list just yet, Sammy. Let's check out this other girl first. Ex girlfriend? They dated for years and now he's dead after three months with a new chick? That's your motive right there."

"Okay, but that still doesn't explain why Lizzy isn't _at all_ upset about Kenny's death. She didn't even flinch when we mentioned it; she was deflecting questions; and she never really gave me a proper answer when I called her out on it."

"Still, I say we check out this other chick before we start pointing fingers. Lizzy's clearly a rocker chick, and this guy was loved all around town. Chances are she only dated him for the publicity of it."

Sam scoffed. "You sure you're not just defending her cause she's a good kisser?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but then smiled, remembering the sweet taste her lips left on mine. "She was a pretty good kisser."

He laughed. "Come on, Romeo. You're so eager to clear this chick's name, so let's go check out the other one."


	4. The Girl With the Jet Black Hair

**(Sam's POV)**

Realizing we didn't get Kaitlyn's last name, we weren't saved a trip to the police station after all. We would need to switch back into our suits, much to Dean's grumbled dismay, so I let him sit this one out while I went in and talked to the Sheriff. "According to him, we're looking for Kaitlyn Dubarr – here's her address," I handed Dean a sticky note once I came out.

"Cops already talk to her?"

"Of course, even before talking to Lizzy. But he said there is absolutely no way on this earth that she would ever harm her beloved Kenny Hutchings."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can't be that beloved if they split."

"Oh, yeah," I recalled, "Kate broke up with Kenny, not the other way around. So, if she's our witch, like you suggest, why would she bother killing him if she was already rid of him?"

"Look, let's just go talk to the girl before we cancel her out, alright?"

I rolled my eyes. Dean was a good hunter, but sometimes he let his, uh, _lust_ , get in the way. If he saw a pretty girl, the last thing he wanted to believe was that she would be a killer, never mind witch, which in his mind, was probably worse.

We pulled up to the address the Sheriff had given us shortly after. It was in a nice neighborhood, very white-picket-fence. Which, is exactly what surrounded Kate's yard. Behind the fence stood a massive white house, with a red porch, steps, and door. Climbing vines covered the walls of the house, giving it a slightly eerie feel, but somehow still looking beautiful.

I knocked on the door and waited several minutes. We knocked again, but this time heard a loud crash from inside. Dean glanced at me and I stepped back. He kicked the door open and we both reached for our guns hidden in our waistbands. "Miss Dubarr, this is the FBI!" Dean shouted.

We split up, searching the house for the source of the bang. Turning a corner, I found myself in the kitchen. On the floor, surrounded by pots and pans, was a scared looking woman, whom I could only assume was Kaitlyn Dubarr. Lowering my gun, I called out to Dean. He rushed in through the other entry way, glancing at the girl, then at me.

Her jet black hair was a mess, tangled and frizzy. Her eyes were red and puffy – she'd obviously been crying. Tucking my gun back into my waistband, I extended my hand. Hesitating, she took it, and I pulled her to her feet. She dusted herself off. "Sorry to cause such a panic," she stuttered.

I frowned, sympathetic. I glared at Dean, telling him to put his gun away. The poor girl was obviously shaken up by them. Dean and I retreated to the living room, giving her a few minutes to regain her composure. She came out with a tray of coffee cups and cookies, placing them on the table in front of us and sitting in the recliner across from us.

"I'm sorry again, about the panic," she mumbled, "and for not coming to the door in the first place. I've just been bombarded with questions lately – the police haven't left me alone. I'm tired of talking about Kenny's death."

I gave her an apologetic smile. She looked so meek, fragile. I felt bad for her. "We're sorry for your loss, Miss Dubarr. I promise we won't take up too much of your time."

"Please, call me Kaitlyn," she smiled back at me. "Or Kate, whichever."

"Kate," Dean started while I nursed my cup of coffee. I was curious to let him take the lead, see just how determined he was to protect Lizzy's innocence. "How long have you known Kenny Hutchings?"

"Including before we were together? Seven years," she replied. "I met him while we were in school, and we clicked right away. Became best friends, and eventually..."

"High school sweethearts," I finished for her. She nodded.

"He was perfect. His light brown hair, his muscles, those beautiful blue eyes... I loved him with every fiber of my being."

"So why – if you don't mind my asking," Dean said, "did you break up with him?"

She looked up at him, obviously not expecting the question. Her brow furrowed, and she stared with confusion into her coffee cup. "That's... complicated," she muttered.

"Try us," Dean said coldly. I shot him a look.

"I'm a big believer in true love," she started, slowly recalling. "I believe that if you love someone, and for whatever reason you're separated, that you'll reunite one day. Kenny was my true love," she looked at us, voice cracking.

"But?" I asked.

She sighed. "But, he got confused. He experienced... _feelings_ for someone. My best friend."

I raised an eyebrow. "Lizzy?"

She nodded. "You've talked to her already?"

I glanced at Dean. "We did," he answered, "but that's a detail she left out." He said it with a hint of defeat, unwillingly admitting that maybe I was right in suspecting her. That's one important detail that made a big difference.

"We were best friends long before I ever met Kenny. But once I did, and we started getting close, Lizzy got kind of jealous. She would throw fits that I was spending so much time with him, and eventually we stopped talking. That's when it started."

"When what started?"

"The secrecy. From Kenny. He would start bringing his phone to the bathroom with him, changed all his Facebook and email passwords, going out without telling me where. That wasn't like him, so I knew what was going on. They never did anything while we were together, but I broke up with him before they could."

I sighed, getting to my feet. Dean swiped a final cookie and then did the same. "Well, Kate, I think we've got all we need here. Thank you for your time."

I turned to Dean once the door was shut behind us. "She's not our girl, Dean."

He sighed. "I was afraid you were gonna say that."

"Lizzy was _jealous_ of the vic for taking all of Kate's time. That doesn't sound like motive to you?"

"It would, except for the part where she decides to let him bone her for a few months first," he scoffed. "I've gotta go with my gut on this one. I don't think it's Lizzy. But my gut tells me that chick in there is the one hiding something."

I shook my head and climbed into the passenger seat. "Are you sure it's your _gut_ that your thinking with?"


	5. Make Sure to Use Protection!

**(Dean's POV)**

Back at the motel, the two of us independently looked into our leads – Sam researched Lizzy and I researched Kate. Both girls had clean records, and the police reports listed nothing at the crime scene or in the victims house that could connect either one of them to Kenny's death. Looked like this case was gonna require some undercover digging. We were gonna have to get inside the girls' houses to figure out which one was the witch. Though, at this point, I was almost willing to believe that neither of them were.

Disrupting my research (not that I was complaining), my phone buzzed on top of the desk. I glanced at the caller ID to see that it was an Illinois number. _I wonder if it's her?_

Picking up the phone, I tried not to sound too eager. "Hello?"

"Hey. Dean, right? It's Lizzy."

"Oh, hey. Got something for us?"

"Not... exactly," she chuckled.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you off duty yet?"

I smirked and my insides tingled with excitement. "I can be," I said coyly.

She chuckled. "I guess I'll send you my address then, Agent J."

I hung up and chuckled at the reference to Men in Black. Feeling Sam's scowl on me, I suddenly became aware of his presence in the room again. _Shit_. How do I cover up my tracks with this one?

 _You_ do _need to snoop around her house..._

"Who was that?" Sam asked flatly, already guessing the answer.

"That was Lizzy," I replied, playing it cool. "She wants me to come over – said she remembered something that might help the case. So I figure while I'm there I can snoop around and see if she's hiding anything witchy."

"Uh-huh," he eyed me suspiciously. "Well give me a call if you find anything."

"Yeah, sure," I muttered as I grabbed my coat and car keys. As I opened the door, Sam spoke again.

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"While you're 'snooping around', make sure you use protection," he said smugly.

I set the GPS to the address Lizzy had texted me. It wasn't far, only a block or two from the motel. I noticed quickly that both the neighborhood and house were in complete contrast to Kate's. It was a small, older looking house, in a lower class neighborhood. There was an eerie quiet to the place, only for a dog barking in the distance. But I reminded myself her living probably came from singing at bars and shrugged it off.

She opened the door before I could knock on it. "That was fast," she smirked.


	6. Lizzy Takes the Wheel

**(Lizzy's POV)**

Damn, he really was gorgeous. I looked at the man standing on my porch, a devilish grin plastered on my face. Why be heartbroken over Kenny when there was such a cutie to toy with? I stepped to the side, allowing him to step in, making sure to lock the door behind him.

He looked around at the few cardboard boxes filled with Kenny's things. "You movin' or something?"

"They're Kenny's," I hesitantly replied.

He looked at me quizzically. "Weren't you guys only together for a couple months?"

I nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"Just seems like a lot of stuff."

It was, but I pushed the comment aside, as I didn't really have an answer for it. What can I say? Witchcraft is particular – there were certain things I needed that I couldn't exactly purchase in store. But this guy hardly needed to know about my hobbies. Best thing to do was throw him off. "Some of it I already had, some of it I got from his mother. Thought it might help you boys in the case."

I watched as his fingers trailed over the objects in one of the boxes. He looked up at me. "So, this is why you called me over?" he asked, a bit regrettably.

It wasn't, not really. Of course I wanted to sleep with him. But if this guy was really FBI then that could complicate things. If he found out something he wasn't supposed to, he would wind up dead. It was better to just play the helpful hero, and give him things that would keep him off my trail. Clearing my throat, I said, "Of course... What, you didn't _actually_ think I was flirting around, did you?" My voice came out husky – it always did that when I was lying.

"No, no. Of course not," he stuttered. _Liar._

I concealed my smirk, instead bringing rise to a twinge of bitterness in my voice. "My boyfriend just _died_ , you do realize that, right?"

"That didn't seem to bother you so much when you kissed me."

I scoffed. "In case you didn't notice, we were surrounded by a huge crowd. I did it for the hype; it didn't mean anything."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Yeah? Tell that to your tongue."

 _Oh, you cocky bastard._

I took a step closer to him, my hand tracing over his fingers lightly. "D'you always try to take advantage of hurt girls like me?"

His eyes flickered to my hand on his. "Forgive me for saying this, but if you're really hurt, you're sure as hell good at hiding it."

"So are you," I whispered, "but I can see it in your eyes." I watched his Adam's apple rise and fall, leaving me satisfied. It was true though, those gorgeous eyes held a lot of pain, and I loved it.

I stepped closer again, and he took a single step back, bumping into the wall behind him. His eyes were on my lips. _If you do this, Liz, they're gonna suspect you. No grieving girlfriend sleeps with a hot FBI agent days later._ But _God_ , did I ever want to kiss him.

"I can't sleep with you, you know," I whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because that would be using you... to get over Kenny," I purred.

"I don't mind being used," he mumbled in a husky voice that was just so damn sexy.

My fingers trailed up his chest, to the collar of his shirt. "But that would be wrong," I replied, biting my bottom lip.

His hand cupped my cheek, and he looked into my eyes. He was holding back from kissing me, just as I was doing to him. _Lizzy. If you do this, it's gonna be harder to hide. He's gonna find you out._ I shuddered as I felt his hand glide from the side of my hip to my ass. "Oh, fuck it," I muttered out loud, pulling him in. Two seconds later, I was the one pressed against the wall, and damn, I'd kill for that to happen again.


	7. Beauty is in the Beholder of the Eyes

(Dean's POV)

I lay back in Lizzy's bed, taking in the feel of entangled sheets and her skin on mine. A satisfied grin was spread across my face as I tried to regain my breath, and she was doing the same. She cuddled into me, and my heart fluttered. She gave me a weird feeling, but it was something I liked. _And hell, it was_ really _great sex._

"That was a mistake," she muttered softly.

 _Or not._

I hesitated to respond, but finally I asked. "What makes you say that? Was it not... good?"

"It _was_ good; that's the problem." I raised an eyebrow. She rolled onto her stomach and looked at me, resting her chin on my chest. "I'm assuming you'll be leaving as soon as the case is solved."

My euphoria dropped as she clued me back into the real world. She was right. Once the case was gone we'd have another one in some other town, and we most likely wouldn't be coming back to this one. "Some cases can take a long time to solve," I mumbled, trying to convince myself.

She shook her head and pouted. "Not a case like this. Something this strange? I give it a week before they pull you off it altogether and close it, unsolved."

The more we talked about my inevitable leaving, the more crappy I felt. I didn't know what it was about the girl, but something drew me to her. Maybe it was the fact that she could sense my pain, and I hers – it was a common bond, something drawing us to each other. Well, something besides the obvious physical attraction. "So come with us," I blurted, not thinking.

"What?"

"Come with us – me and Sam. We're on the road a hell of a lot, and I can't promise it beats the comfort of home, but you get used to it." What the hell was I saying? _Come with us?_ Of course she couldn't come with us. Not unless...

"You want me to come on the road with you guys? Would I even be able to? I wouldn't think an FBI agent could have a plus one tagging along on all his cases."

She would have to know. That would be the only way she could come with us – was if she knew, and didn't run. One part of me was screaming that I'd only just met this chick, but then something else was telling me that if I didn't take this opportunity it would be the biggest regret of my life. I'd fallen for other women before and told them what I really was – Cassie, and Lisa – but I'd actually gotten to know them first. We'd had history together. This woman was completely new to me, and for some reason I'd trusted her so easily, when I never trusted anybody. Still, there was something about her that compelled me to tell her.

"What if..." I started, "What if, hypothetically, I wasn't FBI?"

She scrunched up her face and kind of laughed. "Well if you weren't FBI, we wouldn't have this problem in the first place."

I sighed. "Okay, but what if I had some other job that required me to travel a lot? Like a, uh, I dunno, an actor or something. Then if I asked you to come with us, would you?"

"What are you getting at, exactly? We can make up hypothetical situations all we want, but at the end of the day – "

"I'm not FBI," I whispered, cutting her off.

She lifted her head so that she could look at my face. God, she was beautiful. But she looked genuinely worried, and it crossed my mind that this could go south real quick. But it was too late to go back now. I swallowed my fear of her retreating and continued. "I'm a hunter."

She sat up now, and I winced at her touch leaving me. "What do you mean, a _hunter_?"

With a deep breath, I gave her the spiel. I started with mom, and her death, told her about dad disappearing, and me and Sammy teaming up to find him. I told her about Cassie and Lisa, about ghosts and wendigo and demons and angels. And she sat through the whole thing, listening to me, and it was then that I knew I'd made the right call. If she was willing to listen to all this and not think I was crazy, then hell, she was the one.

"So what do you think it is that killed Kenny?" she asked hesitantly.

"We think it's a witch. It has to be – we've canceled everything else out."

"Do you have any idea who it is?"

I thought about telling her that Sam suspected her, but in case it would make her upset, I didn't. By some miracle, she'd managed to stay by me this long – I didn't want to screw it up with a false accusation. "Not a clue. And if something doesn't turn up soon, we might be out of ideas. Man, I hate witches. They're like a cancer in human form."

She pulled her knees in, resting her chin between them thoughtfully. "So you want me to come with you and your brother, chasing witches and God knows what else?"

"If you want to. You wouldn't have to fight or anything."

"If I stay here, what are the chances of me seeing you again?"

"Slim to none is being optimistic."

She thought about this for a minute, and my heartbeat got faster as the seconds ticked by, wondering if she was going to accept or decline. I caught myself nervously fidgeting with the sheets and commanded myself to stop.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll come with you guys."

"Yeah?" I looked at her.

"Yeah."

My heart felt lighter, and I thought to myself that it must've been happiness I was feeling. _That_ was the weird feeling she gave me. _Happiness._ It was a feeling I could get used to.

"So," she giggled, "was all that your way of asking me out?"

I smirked. "Yeah, I guess it was."

"Dude, I'm telling you man, it was the best night I've ever had," I filled Sam in the next day as we went for lunch.

Sam laughed as he held open the door for us to the fast food joint. "Dean, do you realize how many other girls you've said that about in your lifetime?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sammy, this is different, alright? I'm serious this time; I actually felt something."

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam started. "Did you just say you _felt_ something? Like, _feelings_ for her?"

"What?" I scoffed as we moved up to the cash register. "No! Of course not!" Sam smirked, disbelieving. Which was fine; I was trying to convince myself more than him anyway. I glanced up at the menu above us. "Hey, can I get a triple patty cheeseburger with a large fries and a..." I trailed off, finally looking at the girl who was serving me. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, pale skin, and her bright green eyes were highlighted by just a few freckles scattered across her nose. But those eyes, I knew them. They were the same green eyes I was looking into the night before.

"Dean," Sam nudged me.

I shook my head, coming out of my trance. "A, uh, large coke," I finally finished. I eyed her for any indication that she recognized me. She stared at me for a minute, blinked a couple times, but then just said "Uh, okay. Your total is fifteen thirty five," and handed me my receipt.

"Thanks," I muttered, stepping to the side so that Sam could order. After we got our food and turned to find a table, I looked at Sam. "Did you pick up on that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Pick up on what?"

"That was her, man! That was Lizzy!"

"Dean, that looked nothing like Lizzy. Besides, her name tag said Anna. Man, you've got it bad, don't you?"

"What? No!" I shook my head and took a bite out of my burger. "I know who I slept with. That's _Lizzy_ , Sam, not some chick named Anna."

Sam dove into his fries, talking with a full mouth. "So, let me get this straight," he said, swallowing, "You think that this small town rock _goddess_ , is working part time at _Quick Patty?_ "

I shrugged. "Look, I know it sounds stupid, but that's her. I'm telling you."

"Dean, their hair isn't even the same color!"

"So? She's a rock chick – she probably dyed it or something."

Sam glanced up at me over his burger, smirking again. "Do you hear yourself, dude?"

I did sound a little crazy, but then again, crazy was what I knew best. I just glared at him. "Shut up and eat your burger."

After lunch, the plan for the day was to do more research, find more clues. After a few hours of staring at a computer screen, i sighed. "You know what I've found so far, Sammy? A big, steaming pile of _zip_. Remind me again what exactly it is that we're looking for online?"

Sam glanced over the top of his laptop, typing away. "Well, nobody in town seems to think anybody would have a reason to hurt Kenny; we know that already from the news article. We've questioned Lizzy, and Kate, and we've got about all we're going to get from them, at least until new evidence turns up. So what are we doing? Finding more evidence."

Frustrated, I closed my laptop, exhausted. "Evidence like what? What the hell are we gonna find online with what little we got?"

"For starters," Sam turned his laptop around, "what a witch would need a pair of eyes for."

My eyes scanned Sam's computer screen, skimming the web page. Next to the article was a slide-show of images – horrifying drawings and illustrations of witches hovering over corpses, eyes removed. "What is this?" I asked, slightly disgusted. _More_ than slightly. _Damned witches._

"It's a spell," Sam began, stating the obvious. "Believe it or not, it's actually a really twisted _love_ spell. It's used by love-struck witches who use the craft for their own personal gain."

I snorted. "Isn't that all of them?"

Sam brushed my comment off, smirking slightly. "Basically, when these witches were in love, but their lover's affection swayed, they would cast this spell, and once that was done, the person would have eyes only for them."

"How the hell does that work if the guys dead?"

"Well that's the thing – in the early versions of the spell, it was performed while the victim was conscious and his eyes didn't have to be removed. But then, I guess, from the looks of this website, a couple witches were overcome with jealousy and went into a violent rage. They'd kill these guys, store the eyes in ice long enough to cast the spell, and then use black magic to revive them. Once they awoke, they were in love with the witches again and couldn't even remember the previous events."

"Jesus. Really gives a whole new meaning to 'Beauty is in the beholder of the eyes'."

Sam chuckled, producing a confused look from me. "That's not how the saying goes, Dean."

"Oh," I mumbled awkwardly. "So what are we thinking with this spell, then? Are you on my side now? Do we agree that Kate is the suspicious one? Cause this sounds like something she would use to try and get Kenny back from Lizzy."

Sam held up a finger, scrolling further down the page. "Not quite. See, the spell works both ways. Yes, the man falls back in love with the witch for eternity, but the spell was never perfected, so the witch would be bound by love to the man, as well. I'm thinking Lizzy put her own spin on things. If she replaced her own eyes with Kenny's, she would have Kate's full attention again, for the rest of time. The only alteration she'd have to make to the spell is to throw something of Kate's into the pot, instead of her own belonging."

I scoffed. "Man, are you kidding me? Kenny left Kate for Lizzy! We're staring face to face with a spell that can be used to make your man come back to you, and you _still_ think Kate's innocent?"

"Dean, I'm not saying she's innocent! I just think we need to look at all the possibilities. And right now, Kate just doesn't seem to have any evidence against her."

"Neither does Lizzy! There's hardly _any_ evidence, period!"

"I know that. But Kate doesn't strike me as the kind of person who'd be boiling pots full of eyeballs in her basement."

I tried to contain my growing frustration, keeping my voice even. "And Lizzy does?"

"No, Dean," he sighed. "But she lied about being friends with Kate."

"She didn't lie," I interrupted.

"She didn't _tell us_ , either. Why would she keep that a secret if she didn't have something to hide, Dean?"

"I dunno, man," I replied. "Maybe she thought she'd sound like a bitch for dating her best friend's ex?"

Sam hesitated, shaking his head. "Maybe, yeah. Or maybe it might be something more than that." Sighing again, he closed his laptop. "Dean..."

I let out an exasperated sigh of my own, knowing what was coming next. Sam was so predictable.

"You know, maybe I should take this case alone..."

 _There it is._ "Look, Sam," I started, tone dropping."

"Listen, you've obviously got an emotional attachment to this case, and I'm starting to worry if it's seriously affecting your judgment. You're an amazing hunter, Dean, but maybe you should sit this one out."

Shaking my head, I chuckled to myself. Slowly, I walked over to my bed and grabbed my jacket. I wasn't in the mood for a fight tonight. Best thing to do would be to head to a bar, have a few drinks, and hell, maybe even call up Lizzy, just to spite Sam.

"What are you doing?" Sam muttered, watching me.

I shrugged, shooting him a smug look. "What you told me to do: sit this one out. I'm going to the bar."


	8. Rebounding

(Sam's POV)

After Dean left, I second guessed saying to him what I did. I knew I was right, but Dean was hot-headed; he didn't like hearing that he might be wrong, never mind that he was getting to emotionally involved in the case. I worried about him, though. It wasn't like him to get this attached to a girl – like, ever. For a moment, I wondered if maybe Lizzy had cast the original eye spell on him, but I dismissed the thought, reminding myself that she'd be in love with him, too.

Dean would come around again by morning, but in the meantime it gave me a chance to do some real digging on Lizzy myself. Taking a shot in the dark, I figured she'd probably texted Dean her address at some point. Dialing the phone company, I used Dean's alias to have the operator find me the text I was looking for. I tucked my gun into the waist of my jeans and grabbed the keys to Baby, thankful that Dean wouldn't risk leaving her in a bar's parking lot overnight.

I parked Baby a block from the address. I had no idea if Lizzy was home or not – my only real plan if she was home was to snoop through the windows and maybe wait for her to leave. Sure enough, I sneaked around the back of her house and peered into her window to see that she was home. Though, it looked like she was getting ready to go out, putting in hoop earrings and wearing a red dress that gripped her body in all the right places. She really was an attractive woman – but she was definitely more Dean's type than mine. I could see why he was attracted to her, but why he was _attached_ to her? That was out of his character.

I decided to wait for her to leave, peering through her windows and creeping around the house as she walked to different rooms. Finally, I waited from the side of the house as she got ready to walk out the door. Hearing a door slam, I looked around the front.

"Mind telling me what you're doing creeping around my house, Sam?" a voice came from behind me, making me jump.

"Uh, I was just..."

"Spying on me?" she finished for me.

I stammered, giving her an embarrassed look. I cocked my head as I noticed her necklace. A simple chain, but the pendant was a small crescent moon, protecting the side of a silver star. I analyzed the piece, trying to recall where I'd seen it. I was pretty sure it was a witch's symbol.

"I was just wondering if you'd seen my brother," I lied.

"You're in the wrong place, kid. He just called me; he's at a bar somewhere."

I nodded at her skimpy outfit. "Same bar you're headed to?"

She pursed her lips. "Look, last time I checked I was an adult with free will. I can go where I choose."

"Right," I said smugly. "You just happened to choose the same bar my brother's at, right after he calls you. You know, most grieving girlfriends don't go screwing around with other guys this quickly."

"It's called rebound sex, asshat. Look it up," she hissed. "Now if you don't mind," she added, sauntering away, "I already have an alarm system – I don't need a security guard."

Considering I'd already been caught, I decided not to risk waiting for her to leave and then sneaking in. If anything was moved or missing, she'd already know it was me. I headed back to my car, thinking to myself. _Why the hell does she need a security alarm living in a house like_ that _?_


	9. The Pentagram Necklace

**(Sam's POV)**

Well, if I couldn't snoop at Lizzy's place, the next best thing would be to go see Kate. It was dark out, but only eight o'clock or so. A little late for a Fed's visit, but hopefully she wouldn't think anything of it. Besides, this might be my only chance to pry and ask Kate questions without Dean around to intervene.

"Agent," Kate said, surprised, as she opened the door.

"Hi Kate. I hope it's not too late to be bugging you."

"Oh, no, no! Come in," she stammered. "Do FBI agents always make rounds this late?"

I gave her an apologetic smile, embarrassed. "Uh, no, not usually. But there's a big lack of evidence with this case, so I thought it best to swing by and ask you some more questions. And, the sooner I do that..."

"The sooner the case is solved." She nodded. "Okay, well, please, have a seat in the living room. I'm just gonna freshen up real quick."

"Sure."

While Kate made a visit to her bathroom, I took the opportunity to take a look around the room. The bookshelf was solid oak, with intricate decorative patterns burned into the sides and filled in with gold paint. It was stocked high with old books, a thick layer of dust covering the spines. It was clear that it was mainly for appearance. As a matter of fact, most of Kate's living room seemed that way. An abstract oil painting hung on the wall behind the reading chair; a wine cart advertised three fancy, foreign bottles with not a drop missing from them; the coffee table had a gold trim that made it look probably more expensive than it was. It was a well decorated home, but there was hardly any wear and tear on any of the furniture. It didn't look like Kate was doing much living in the living room.

"Do you want some coffee?" Kate asked as she came back down the stairs. "Though, probably not, this late."

"Yeah, sorry again," I replied.

"So where's your partner?"

"Oh, he's not here," I replied quickly. "Obviously," I muttered to myself. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a half-smirk. "He, uh, he's investigating the other suspect."

"Lizzy," she answered.

"Yeah."

"Do you think she could've done it?"

"I actually wanted to ask you the same thing. There's not really any significant evidence in this case yet, so right now, Lizzy being a suspect is really nothing more than a suspicion"

She sat on the couch next to me this time, sighing. "I don't want to think poorly of Lizzy. I don't ever want to think that she could have the potential to hurt anybody, but then, before it happened, I didn't think she would ever take Kenny from me, either."

"Have you ever..." I paused, trying to phrase my question without it coming of as strange. "Has Lizzy ever done, said anything to make you question her? Any estranged hobbies?"

Kate thought for a minute, crossing her legs and sitting back. She grew tense. "There is one thing that caught me as strange, but I don't really think it's what you're looking for."

I shrugged. "Anything helps."

She got up from the couch and returned a moment later with a small black box. Handing it to me, she explained. "Shortly before Kenny and I broke up, Lizzy gave me this. There wasn't any special occasion – it was just... out of nowhere. At the time, I thought it was just a necklace, but now, if Lizzy really is behind this, I think that maybe it was a warning."

I opened the box, revealing a necklace, woven with stones and a charm dangling from the middle. "A pentagram?" I looked up at her.

She nodded, looking at the necklace nervously. "It means devil worship or something, right?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, holding up the necklace to analyze it, "something like that. Do you mind if I hang on to this?" I asked.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Thanks," I mumbled, slowly putting the necklace back in its box.

Kate cocked her head to the side, watching me. "That necklace means something to you, doesn't it? You know something about it."

The pentagon necklace was basically confirmation for me that Lizzy was a witch. Besides that, she'd had her own witchy necklace on. But I knew Dean would only say Kate was lying, so I was still going to need something more. Remembering Lizzy's alarm system, I asked, "Kate, you've obviously been to Lizzy's house, right?" She nodded. "Can you think of anything in her house expensive enough that she would be protecting it with an alarm system? I mean, if I was gonna rob a place, that wouldn't exactly be my first choice."

She raised an eyebrow. "Lizzy doesn't have an alarm system. At least, she didn't since I'd been over last. It must be fairly new." She thought for a minute. "But, i don't think there's anything in that house worth stealing, so I don't know why she's worried. She doesn't exactly have a lot of nice things, you know? She sings at a bar to make a living – It's not the most rewarding job."

So maybe Lizzy had only recently taken up witchcraft – probably shortly after Kenny came about. Best guess was she installed an alarm system to keep her supplies safe, more than anything. Either way, I was going to have to get into Lizzy's house sooner rather than later.


	10. Lie To Me, Lizzy

**(Dean's POV)**

The bartender handed me my whiskey and I stared into the glass, contemplating what Sam had said. Was I being reckless? Getting involved with a girl who was not only a stranger, but one of Sam's suspects in the case? Was Lizzy throwing off my instincts as a hunter?

"You gonna stare at that all day? Or are you gonna drink it?" Lizzy's voice came from behind me.

"You came," I mumbled, a little bit surprised.

She climbed into the bar stool next to me. "Was I not supposed to?" I took in what she was wearing, clenching my jaw so it wouldn't hit the floor. _God_ , I thought, _I really hope you're too hot to be evil._

I shrugged in response to what she'd said. "A drunk guy you barely know calls you from a bar this late... Most girls wouldn't go for that."

"Well I'm not really like most girls," she replied smugly.

I smirked, chucking the whiskey down my throat. She looked me up and down, smile fading from her face. "Something's bothering you. Is it the case?"

I waved for the bartender to get two more drinks. "Yeah, this one's kinda... complicated."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters," I glanced at her, "my brother and I don't even agree on the same suspect."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sam suspects me," she said flatly.

"What makes you say that?"

She frowned. "I caught him snooping around my house before I left."

"He did _what_?" I fumed. Sam actually had the _nerve_?

"It's no big deal," she mumbled. "I told him to screw off and he did."

"Oh, I don't believe this," I muttered, slamming my glass on the bar. I looked at her apologetically. "I swear to god, I had no idea he would go over there."

"I know. But it's pretty obvious I won't be rolling out of town with you guys when your case is over."

I nodded, thinking. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends on the question."

"Were you not, _in love_ with Kenny, or something?"

She half-smiled, looking down at her drink. "It's complicated, okay?"

"Then explain it to me, because I don't get it."

"What, are you suspecting me now, too?"

I sighed. "No, but the fact that you're all over me – "

She raised an eyebrow. "Um, I'm pretty sure we were all over _each other_..."

"Whatever. You just lost your boyfriend. And now we're whatever we are and Sam thinks that's suspicious. But that's all he's got. If you can just..." I trailed off, frustrated. I wanted Lizzy to be innocent. But, as much as I hated to admit it, Sam was right. It was strange for her to be so willing to be with me this soon, never mind willing to just pack up and leave with us.

"You want me to say that I never loved Kenny," she stated. "That I never really cared about him, and I was just using him or something, right?"

"If you do, then Sam's got nothing on you. He won't have a reason to suspect you anymore."

"Unless," she purred, running her hand up my arm, "I'm lying."

I shivered at her touch, trying hard to conceal my smirk. "Is it a lie?"

She leaned in closer, whispering. "What do you think?"

She stood behind me now, both hands trailing down the front of my chest. "I think," I stammered, closing my eyes and trying to concentrate, "I think that you used him for publicity."

"You don't think I killed him?" she whispered in my ear.

"God, I hope not."

Lizzy planted kisses down my neck, now wrapping her hands around my waist. One of her hands grazed over the front of my jeans, making me squirm in my seat. She was making it impossible to maintain this conversation for much longer. "But what would you do if I did? What if I'm the witch you're looking for?" She asked me coyly.

"Well then I'd have to kill you." I inhaled sharply as she began rubbing my hardening member.

"But you don't wanna kill me, do you, Dean?"

I shook my head. "Right now, there's about a million other things I wanna do to you."

She turned my head to face her, thumb brushing across my lips. "So what the hell are we waiting for?"


	11. Decent in Bed

**(Dean's POV)**

There was a loud thud as Lizzy's back slammed against her front door, less than twenty minutes later. She fumbled in her purse for her keys, but I refused to let our hungry kiss break. I groaned as Lizzy pulled away, finally finding her keys and turning to unlock the door. Eager to touch her again, I brushed her hair over one shoulder, revealing her neck. I laid a trail of kisses along her neck to her collar bone, biting down gently. A soft moan escaped her lips and I smirked. "Oh, you like that?"

She grinned, pushing the door open and pulling me into the house. Her hands found my belt buckle as she whispered, "I like _you_."

My heart fluttered, and I couldn't resist the urge to grab her ass and lift her up. Her legs wrapped around me, causing her tight dress to ride up over her hips. Our lips met again as I carried her to the bedroom. I shrugged off my jacket, throwing it on the floor and climbing on top of Lizzy. Reaching behind her, I unzipped her dress and slipped it off, revealing her black lace bra and matching panties.

Lizzy tugged at my shirt. "Now, it's hardly fair for me to be almost naked when you still have so much clothes on." I smirked, pulling my shirt over my head. Lizzy unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them down my waist so I could kick them off. Her soft lips met mine again while we caressed every inch of each others bodies. My fingers found the hem of her underwear and slipped underneath. She gasped, and I took the chance to slip my tongue into her mouth. Our bodies were heated, but I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol in our blood, the wave of passion we were immersed in, or maybe a mix of both. Something about Lizzy's body just felt so right against mine – I knew that sex with a witch could never feel this good. My instincts told me that nothing about Lizzy was evil, as much as she might like to pretend she had a dark side. I had no idea what her deal with Kenny was, but I sure as hell didn't care, especially right now.

Lizzy removed the final pieces of fabric between us. Rolling on top of me, she took the lead. My breath hitched as she positioned herself and let out a gasp. She lay down, head resting in the crook of my neck while our hips moved together rhythmically. A little impatient, Lizzy pulled my hips even closer to hers, moving a little faster. I half-smirked, entangling my fingers in her hair as I flipped us over. This was a battle for dominance, and neither one of us was giving up. We were breathing heavily, panting. Lizzy's moans got louder, and she dug her nails into my shoulder blades. I pushed deeper into her, lost in bliss. Her nails digging deeper into my back alerted me of her climax, and I followed soon after.

I fell back on the bed, exhausted. I looked over and Lizzy and she giggled, rolling onto her side and kissing my shoulder. "You might've ruined other men for me, you know. I'm not sure if anybody else will ever measure up."

My mood dropped a little, thinking of Lizzy being with other guys. "What, you're writing us off already?" I asked.

She pouted, hesitating. "Well you'll be leaving town whenever the case is over."

"What happened to you coming with us?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Well Sam obviously has something against me if he thinks I killed Kenny."

"Yeah, but you didn't," I replied, a little irritated.

"Well do you really think he'll care? The point is that he thinks I'm capable of it, and if that's the case then we're just not gonna get along."

I frowned, thinking. "I'll talk to him."

"Dean..."

"No, seriously. I'll talk to him. Look, once we solve the case and prove you're not a witch, he's got no choice but to let it go." Lizzy grinned at me, and I looked at her questioningly. "What's that look for?"

"You really want me to come with you guys that badly?"

I shrugged, saying jokingly, "Yeah, you're not so bad I guess. Decent in bed, at least."

"Just decent?" She laughed, kissing me deeply.

I smirked, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Okay, maybe a little more than decent.


	12. Dean Falls Hard

**(Dean's POV)**

An hour later, Lizzy was sound asleep and I was wide awake. My mind was reeling, unable to stop thinking about leaving town without Lizzy in Baby's back seat. Careful not to wake her, I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom across the hall. Shutting the door, I took out my phone. _4:37 AM._ Sam was going to kill me. Still, I dialed him. I splashed my face with water as I waited for him to pick up, realizing the room was spinning a bit and I was still probably half drunk to even consider doing this.

"Hello?" he answered groggily.

"Sam, it's me."

"Dean? It's like four in the morning. Where are you?"

I hesitated to answer, but I had to get into the topic somehow. "Lizzy's house." A heavy sigh came from the other end. "Don't tell me. Your one night stand has blossomed into a fling."

"She's not evil, Sammy."

"You don't know that."

"But what if I'm right?"

" _What if_ , Dean?" he replied. "What difference would it make? I'll admit I was wrong and we go on our way again." I paced nervously around the bathroom, biting on a hangnail. "Dean?"

"What if," I began cautiously, "Lizzy came with us?"

"Are you _drunk_ , Dean?"

"No," I stuttered. "Not really... maybe..."

"Look, Dean, Regardless of whether she's a witch or not, we can't have some girl tagging along with us killing demons!"

"Well, what if we told her?"

"Please tell me you didn't," Sam hissed sharply.

"No, no, of course not," I lied. "Listen, man, it was just a passing thought, okay?"

Sam was quiet for a moment. "You really like this girl, don't you?" he said suddenly.

"Yeah, Sammy. I do."

Another sigh, but this one was more in defeat. "Before we even _consider_ telling Lizzy what we are, Dean, we need to make sure she's not a witch. I know you don't think so, but I'm not one hundred percent certain. And until I am, you need to be cautious around her at the very least. Alright?"

I rubbed my temples, not exactly eager to agree. But after some thought, I replied, "Okay. I can do that."

"And as for her coming with us, Dean... You know you're talking crazy, right? I'm not saying it won't happen but you have to be completely positive you want to do that. If you're really so crazy about this girl, don't put her in danger for nothing."

"Yeah. Got it."

"Good. Listen, while you're there, at least try to do some digging on her, okay? Either find something that proves she's a witch, or come up empty-handed and maybe prove she isn't one. Fair?"

"Sure. Goodnight, Sammy."

I flipped the phone shut, leaning on the bathroom counter. I stared at my tired reflection in the mirror. "Since when do you fall this hard, Dean Winchester?" I muttered to myself.


	13. A Hexbag Whodunnit

**(Sam's POV)**

I woke up in the morning to Dean stumbling through the door, junk food-filled convenience store bags in hand. "Morning, sunshine," he said cheerily.

I glanced at the time. 10:23AM. Rolling over and burying my face in the pillow, I mumbled, "I take it you had a good night."

"Yeah, it was alright," he said smugly. "So you gonna get out of bed or what? Come on, we have work to do."

"Five more minutes," I mumbled.

"Excuse me? Five more minutes? But people are dead, _now_ , Sammy," he replied mockingly.

"Hey! Maybe if I hadn't gotten a drunken phone call at four o'clock in the morning I would have had a good night's sleep!"

"Alright, point taken," he said as he cracked open a beer. "You got _two_ minutes."

Before my first minute of peace was even up, my cell phone vibrated. "What now," I muttered. I raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar caller ID. "Hello?"

"Agent? It's Kate." I sat up with concern. Her voice was coarse – she didn't sound well.

"Kate, hey," I said, returning Dean's questioning glance. "Is everything okay?"

"Not... exactly," she said slowly. I listened intently as she explained, getting dressed while still on the phone.

"Okay. Thanks for calling me. We'll check things out."

"Well?" Dean eagerly awaited.

"That was Kate," I said flatly.

"Yeah, I got that much, but what's going on?"

"She's in the hospital. She has a serious infection of the abdominal cavity that nearly killed her. Doctors say her appendix burst."

He shrugged. "Okay, that sucks. But what does that have to do with us?"

"Kate had her appendix taken out when she was _six_."

"Oh."

"Come on, we'd better check out her place, see if we can find any hex bags or anything."

Driving to Kate's house, I tried to read Dean's face. If we found a hex bag somewhere in Kate's house, it would prove that she was a victim, not a suspect. Not only that, but it would be likely that Lizzy was the witch. As far as we knew, she was the only person that would have motive against both Kenny and Kate. And after our phone conversation last night, something told me Dean wouldn't be willing to believe that Lizzy was guilty.

"Alright," I said as we arrived, "where do we start looking first?"

"You take the bedroom and bathroom; I'll check the living room and kitchen."

We split up and I headed upstairs to Kate's bathroom. First I checked the medicine cabinets, drawers. After that turned up nothing, I searched in the less obvious places – behind the toilet, among the folded towels, in the air duct. Nothing. Across the hall, it took me all of five minutes to search Kate's bedroom. "Dean! I found it," I called out.

He appeared in the doorway shortly after. I held up the small black pouch for him to see. "Where was it?"

"Under the pillows."

He raised an eyebrow. "Under the pillows?"

I nodded, opening it up. Bones, various herbs, and a strand of what I could only assume to be Kate's hair were inside. "Yup, that's a hex bag alright."

"So what are you thinking?" Dean asked hesitantly. He eyed me warily, knowingly.

"Well I thought that was fairly obvious, Dean. Kate's not our girl."

"So let me guess. Now, because we found a hex bag in Kate's house, you think that proves Lizzy's our suspect."

"I never said that," I sighed.

"But you're thinking it," he growled.

"Look, Dean. I'm not trying to pick a fight, alright? But it's pretty clear that Kate is a victim here; she almost _died_."

"With a hex bag that was hidden under her _pillow_ , Sam? That doesn't seem just a little bit too easy to you?"

I kept silent. Fighting with Dean would only make him angrier. I was worried that our conversation last night about Lizzy joining us may have gotten his hopes up. For the sake of our sanity, I decided to go along with what Dean wanted and let the topic drop for now. "All I meant was that Kate isn't a suspect anymore – "

"Unless she planted the hex bag on herself," he cut me off.

"Why would she..." I shook my head, tired of arguing. "Whatever, maybe she did. But for right now, we assume she didn't. We have no other ties to witchcraft on her right now. I'm not saying let's jump right in and blame Lizzy, but Dean, we've gotta at least talk to her about this.

He licked his lips and pressed them together. "Fine, okay. Let's talk to Lizzy."

"Okay," I agreed, a little surprised at how easy it was to convince him.

"But I want food first," he glowered, shoving past me and through the door.

We suited up in our Fed uniforms, stopping by a fast food joint and getting it to go. "Well, the bar says she's got the day off," I informed Dean, flipping my phone shut and taking a bite of my burger.

"And I just called her cell and got no answer. She must be out doing something."

 _Or she's hiding from us,_ I thought. "Whatever, we'll just have to get a hold of her later." I stepped out of the car to stretch my legs, leaning on the hood of Baby. Dean followed. I wasn't sure where to go from here – until we could talk to Lizzy, we were really at point blank again. I pulled out my phone again, dialing the one person who might be able to help us.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Calling Bobby."

"Y'ello," Bobby answered.

"Hey Bobby."

"Hey Sam, how you doin'? How'd that vamp thing go in Illinois?"

"Good, it went good. We're actually still in Illinois, though. Different town, different case." Dean and I started walking aimlessly, if only to stretch out our legs a bit more.

"So what can I help you boys with? What kind of baddie are we after this time?"

"A witch."

"A _witch_?" I could hear the disappointment in his voice. "You boys are supposed to be some of the best hunters around, and you're calling me over _a witch_?"

"Well, here's the thing Bobby," I started, glancing at Dean. He was obviously uninterested, busy drooling over his hamburger and fries as he stuffed them into his mouth. "Dean and I can't seem to agree on the suspect."

"What do you mean?"

"Well there's two suspects, both girls, both connected to the victim. But one of the girls, well, let's just say she and Dean really hit it off." I smirked as Dean finally looked up from his food, glaring.

"I see where this is going," Bobby said smugly. "Let me guess, the kid doesn't wanna believe that his new "friend" might be the witch that you're after."

"Exactly. I think she's a pretty likely suspect. But Dean has suspicions about Kate, the other girl."

"Okay, so what's the scoop on her?"

"She's the victim's ex, but still hopelessly in love with him. No dirt on her, but Dean thinks something's off. I got a call from her this morning, and she's in the hospital. Hex bag."

Dean snatched the phone from me abruptly, making me jump. "Bobby, the hex bag was in the girl's bedroom, right under her pillow. That's just way too easy – she's gotta be setting it up."

I grabbed the phone back from Dean, shooting him a look as he reached for it again. "He thinks that Kate is trying to frame Lizzy, the other girl," I concluded.

"I see," Bobby replied thoughtfully. From the corner of my eye I noticed a brown haired girl walk by, and Dean turned his head to watch her walk. "Well Sam, there's no doubt that Dean is probably doing more thinking with his hoo-ha than his brain, but he's got a point. A hex bag under the pillow? That does seem a little easy."

"Did you see that?" Dean asked, glancing back and forth between me and the girl.

"See what, Dean?" I shrugged it off, not sure what he was talking about. Clearly he was intrigued by the girl, but there was nothing unusual about her.

"Sammy, tell me you saw that!"

"Saw what? The girl? What about her?"

"What the hell is he yammerin' on about?" Bobby asked from the other end of the phone.

"We _know_ her, Sam," Dean insisted.

I took a look back at the girl, who'd stopped at a street vendor. She was close enough that I could just barely make out her facial features, and I realized she did look familiar. "You right, we do know her." Dean's face lit up with this recognition. "Yeah," I mumbled, "she was that girl who served us at Quick Patty, wasn't she? Anna, or something?"

He rolled his eyes, throwing his arms up in the air. "No, Sam! That's _Lizzy!_ "

I chuckled, letting out a small sigh. "I think Dean's got it pretty bad, Bobby," I mumbled into the phone.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, half irritated but a little concerned. "I got _what_ bad?"

"Really?" Bobby asked me, looking for a serious confirmation. "Dean?"

"It's been hitting him pretty hard this whole case. I think we might have to tell him – He hasn't noticed." Bobby chuckled, and I knew that he knew what I was getting at. I struggled to keep my composure, watching Dean squirm nervously, wondering what we were talking about.

"What?" Dean begged again. "What haven't I noticed?"

"Should you tell him?" Bobby asked, "Or should I?"

"I think it's better if he hears it from you, Bobby."

I put the phone on speaker, holding it up for Dean to hear.

"Dean?"

"Bobby, what the hell are you and Sam talking about?"

"Well son, it sounds to me like you've got a real bad case of," he paused dramatically, "the _love bug_."

Bobby and I burst into laughter, while Dean finally relaxed and rolled his eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me. I'm not starstruck, okay! I'm not going crazy, either. That Anna girl is Lizzy, I'm telling you. She changes her hair and makeup and puts on preppy clothes and pretends to be a totally different person, I'm sure of it."

"Well, Romeo, let me know how that pans out," Bobby joked before he said goodbye and hung up.

I chuckled, glancing at Dean again. He glared at me. "Oh, come on," I said defensively, "It was just a joke."

"Yeah? And when we blow this case wide open, and you realize I was right about Kate, and you were wrong about Lizzy, then the joke will be on _you_."


	14. Now We Wait

**_A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait (and the short chapter)! I've been pretty busy with work and things but I promise I won't make you wait this long for the next chapter! Bear with me, things are about to get INTENSE!_**

 **(Sam's POV)**

Everything about Lizzy Styles screamed suspicious to me. Her attitude, her seemingly worthless house protected by an alarm system, her obvious infatuation with Dean from the moment we got here. But, save Dean, there was no hunter whose advice I trusted more than Bobby's. When Dean had said that a hex bag under the pillow was too easy, I'd brushed it off – he'd been using every excuse in the book not to suspect Lizzy of witchcraft. But to hear Bobby say the same thing, I'd realized they were probably right. A witch would have to be pretty inexperienced to make that mistake, and given that our witch was performing powerful dark magic, that was highly unlikely. So I decided to humor Dean, moving my suspicions to Kate, as well as Lizzy.

Sitting back at the motel, I pondered the best way to approach the situation while Dean scowled at his computer screen. "Okay," I finally said, prompting him to look up, "your point was valid."

He raised an eyebrow at me, and I sighed. "Kate's worth checking into." I smirked, watching him shoot his fist in the air when he thought I wasn't looking. " _But_ , Lizzy's still got something to hide. She's not off the hook yet."

"Okay," Dean shrugged, sounding a little more cheery than he did earlier in the day. "So you check out Kate and I'll snoop around Lizzy's."

I shook my head."Not a chance, Dean. You're way too invested in proving Lizzy's innocence. _I'm_ investigating Lizzy. _Alone._ You're going to Kate's." Dean didn't look pleased with this, but I knew he would only get in the way if I let him come with me.

"That's stupid, Sam. Two people get the job done faster – we should just search both houses together."

I scoffed. "Can you honestly tell me that your emotions aren't getting in the way of your judgment with this, Dean?" He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. "I suspect Lizzy, so I checkout Lizzy. You suspect Kate, so you search her. We're both determined to prove we're right, so at the very least we'll be more scrutinizing than usual."

He licked his lips, folding his hands and thinking. "Fine. When do we hit them?"

"Well," I started, scrolling through the webpage in front of me, "according to Kate's Facebook page, she'll be at a church group meeting tonight."

"And Lizzy?"

I tossed him his cell phone, which was on the table next to me. "Call her."

"What?" He looked at me, confused.

"Call her. Arrange to meet. Tell her to go to the bar. By the time she figures out you're not coming, it should be long enough for me to search her house."

He glowered at me, but I nodded at the phone and he proceeded. "Alright, it's done," he said as he hung up. "So I guess now we wait."


	15. So, We Meet Again

***A/N: Thanks for reading and waiting patiently, guys! This case is coming to a close, but there will be many more in this fanfiction! Please rate it and leave a comment. The next chapter will be from Dean's POV; I know it's been a while! :)**

 **(Sam's POV)**

The evening passed slowly, and we both waited impatiently for night to fall. "Dean," I said to him as we loaded our gear into Baby, "if anything goes sideways..."

"I'll get pout of there as fast as I can, same as always."

I hesitated. "Just... Don't stay back trying to make an effort to prove that Kate's the witch. If she's not, she's not. Don't be in there longer than you need to be."

He glared at me, speaking with a stone cold voice. "Sure, Sam. Just promise me you'll take your own advice." Before I could reply, he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's side door. It was a short, silent ride, and Dean dropped me off a block away from Lizzy's house, just in case she hadn't quite left yet. I watched from a few feet away until I determined there was no sign of her. The tricky part about this was going to be her alarm system. I'd never disabled one before, and even with all the manuals I'd read and the research I'd done before coming here, I wasn't sure I could do it.

After picking the lock to her front door, I slipped myself into the house and frantically tried to shut off the blaring system. "Damn it," I hissed, pressing multiple buttons in a panic. I ran my fingers through my hair and paced, before finally deciding to rip the alarm off of the wall. I wouldn't be able to leave here unnoticed, but I could handle Lizzy easier than I could the cops.

After (sortof) disabling the alarm, I began tip-toeing around the small home, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were the possible signs – lots of candles, old books, faery figurines – Things that witches often had, but there was always an off chance that they just belonged to people with estranged hobbies and interests, as well. Like with Kate's house, Lizzy's living room seemed more like it was for show than anything else. It didn't appear like she often had company over. She was more...solitary. My eyes scanned the room from top to bottom, and all seemed fine.

Until I noticed a corner of the rug folded over.

I knelt down closer to the floor, and carefully pulled back the rug. I brushed my hair back again, staring at the trap door in front of me. _Chances are everything I'm looking for is under this door,_ I thought. Out of sight, out of mind – the basement should have been the obvious place to look for evidence. I pulled up on the door and carefully climbed down the rickety ladder. I coughed into my sleeve as I was overcome with the smell of rotting flesh and strong herbs. _Dean isn't gonna like this..._

My surroundings were now significantly different than they had been upstairs. A furnace, directly across from the bottom of the staircase; a desk to my left, covered in notes and ancient journals, spell books; and lined off were shelves and shelves of ingredients, from simple herbs to frog legs and crows' hearts. What I didn't see, were Kenny's eyes. I shuffled through the papers on Lizzy's desk, searching for a copy of the spell, notes, _something_ to take back and prove to Dean. Figuring I should call him so he didn't waste his time searching Kate's, I shoved y hand in my pocket, reaching for my phone. I froze at its absence.

 _Shit! Where the hell is your phone, Sam?_

"What's the matter? You missing something?" I shuddered at the voice behind me. Putting my hands up in surrender, I spun on my heels to see Lizzy holding up my phone. Except she didn't _look_ like Lizzy. "Must have fallen out of your pocket while you were _breaking into my house!"_ she hissed.

I raised my eyebrow at her unfamiliar appearance. Her blonde hair was now brown, and her rocker style had been ditched for a much smarter, laid back look. A simple white blouse and dark skinny jeans that emphasized her figure. "You're supposed to be meeting Dean," I stuttered.

"I got stuck at work late. Had to come home and change." Without breaking eye contact, Lizzy dropped my phone, stepping on it and digging her high heel shoe into it for good measure. "Now," she purred devilishly, minimizing the space between us and running a finger along my chin, "why don't you tell me what the _hell_ you're doing in my house?"


	16. Anybody Home?

***** ** _A/N: Hey guys! So this is another short chapter, and the next couple are going to be too. The only reason behind it is that I want to stick as closely as possible to how the show does its cut scenes and all that. So for the next few days there will be several small updates, but after the resolution of the case the chapters will go back to the regular length and it won't switch pov's that often. Like/Rate/Follow/Comment & Enjoy!_**

 **(Dean's POV)**

As I peered through Kate's window, I had an inexplicable bad feeling, but I wasn't sure quite about what. My first thought was that maybe Sam was right about Lizzy, but I shook that thought out of my head. I had, since the beginning, a major suspicion of Kate, regardless of proof. One of the most important skills with this job was reading people, and Kate gave me nothing but bad vibes. The more my insides turned, the more I regretted not having Sammy here for backup.

After determining no one was home, I attempted to pick the lock on the front door, with little success. Slowly, I leaned back, scanning my surroundings. After making sure I wasn't being watched, I took a step backwards and kicked the door, forcing it to swing open. I closed and locked it behind me. "Anybody home?" I called out. I didn't bother waiting for a reply I knew I wasn't going to get. My bad feeling had dissolved as soon as I immersed myself in snooping through Kate's crap, so I took my time and enjoyed it a little. I picked up her figurines and analyzed them, looked through her cupboards for nothing in particular. I'd caught myself doing this every now and then – I'd get caught up in going through people's belongings and find myself wondering what it was like. Having a stable home – a family, even – it was nothing but a far off dream for me. But I figured even a hard-ass like me needed to dream.

I quickly lost track of time, but in what felt like no time at all, I'd searched most of Kate's house and turned up empty handed. Coming down the stairs, my eyes fell on the bookcase directly in front of me. "Maybe I should pull down a book and open a door to her secret lair," I chuckled. The sound of metal clicking alerted me that someone was trying to get in. My heart raced, and I frantically tried to remember what time Kate was supposed to get home from her church meeting.

"Dean!" She jumped as she spotted me, frozen at the bottom of her staircase. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

She clutched her purse, petrified. I put up my hands in defense, getting into a sprinting position in case I needed to run. "Kate, I can explain..."


	17. She's Lying

**(A/n: Hey guys! Sorry again for the long wait - since I've moved across the country I've been a little frazzled trying to sort my life out again. But I haven't forgotten about this! Just bear with me, I should be back to a normal posting schedule soon! Next part soon to come!)**

**(Sam's POV)**

"Well, you look different," I stated, cautiously taking a step towards Lizzy.

She shrugged. "I'm a small town rock sensation and everyone thinks that I've got it good. I think I might lose my charm if they knew I worked part time at a burger joint to pay the bills."

 _So she_ was _the girl at Quick Patty. At least Dean was right about that much._ "I would think you'd lose your charm if the whole town knew you were a witch," I sneered. Lizzy glowered, straightening up. "So, what? You just throw on a wig and some different makeup and call yourself a different name? Is Lizzy even your real name?" I'd asked it half-jokingly, but she stiffened, pursing her lips. I scoffed. "Huh. It's not your real name, is it?"

In one swift motion, I watched her pull a small revolver from behind her, tucked away into her waistband and under her shirt. She pointed it at my forehead, taking a step closer to me. "It's Anna. Anna's my real name. Doesn't exactly fit the rocker persona," she hissed.

"And does Dean know about all this?" I asked, gesturing towards her different look and outfit. Again, I watched her body language closely to get the answer I was looking for. She gulped – dead giveaway.

"Dean knows all that he needs to know."

"Right, sure," I nodded smugly, mocking her statement. "Except that you're a witch. Something tells me he doesn't know that part yet."

Lizzy – or Anna, whatever her name was – brought her second hand up to the gun, holding it more steady. "Don't infuriate me while I have a gun pointed at your head, Winchester." Ironically, Anna holding a gun up to my head put into perspective exactly what Dean liked about her. She was hot-headed and fiery, and she didn't like to come across as weak. So, aside from the whole evil thing, she was pretty much just like Dean.

"Dean is gonna love this," I remarked, patronizing her. "You know, you're the first girl he's had real feelings for since – you know what? I don't even know if Dean's ever _had_ real feelings before. And now, as it turns out, you're a murderer!"

Curiously, she took to an angry, defensive stance, and her voice came down hard. "You listen to me. I am not the witch you're looking for."

"The _hell_ you're not! Anna, I'm standing in your basement surrounded by spells and ingredients for potions! Do you honestly think I believe you?"

" _Listen_ ," she hissed, gritting her teeth. "I never said I _wasn't_ a witch. I'm just not the one you're looking for."

"Right," I said, reaching into my pocket, pulling out the pentagram necklace. "So I suppose this isn't yours, then?"

Anna's eyes fell on the necklace and widened. "I-it is," she stammered, suddenly sounding frightened, "but whatever she told you, she's lying."


	18. Door Number Two

**(Dean's POV)**

"What are you doing inside my house, Agent?" Kate watched me cautiously as she set her purse on the floor.

"This isn't what it looks like..." I scanned my brain for some kind of excuse, some reason for me to be in Kate's house without her knowledge. I didn't have a whole lot of options – no matter what she would demand to see a warrant, and I didn't have one.

"I'm not even sure _what_ it looks like," she scoffed. "It looks like you're searching my house behind my back!"

If I argued, it would only piss her off, so I went with it. "Listen, Kate. It's nothing against you. It's just a standard part of our investigation. We have to be suspicious of everybody."

Her lips puckered into a sour frown. "Then you'd sure as _goddamned hell_ better have a warrant on you."

I raised my eyebrow. "That's awfully sinful of you to say, being a devout church goer. Saying something like that would be blasphemy, wouldn't it?" The aura in the room was changing. Kate was trying too hard to mask her emotions. I couldn't make out exactly _which_ emotions they were, but I knew she was trying to cover something up.

"Everybody sins," she said eerily.

"Sure, yeah," I replied mockingly. "Everybody sins. _Or_ ," I paced in a circle, acting deep in thought, "you're worried about something."

I watched her intently, searching for what I needed to know. Her eyes flickered towards, ironically, the bookcase. "What's behind the bookcase, Kate?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really?" I stopped and looked at her. Eyes locked with hers, I slowly sidestepped towards the bookcase as I spoke. "Because, when I said you were worried about something, your eyes went straight here," I said, coming to the space just in front of it. "So which book is it, Kate? Is it this one?" I put my hand to a red leather book, watching Kate to see her reaction. _Nothing_. "What about this one?" I repeated the action a few times, until finally Kate spoke.

Growling, she said, "You're wasting your time, Winchester."

"Am I?" I tilted another book, honestly not expecting anything to happen but relieved at the mechanical noises that came from behind me. "Let's see what's behind door number two, shall we?"


	19. The Truth Comes Out

**(Sam's POV)**

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" I watched Anna's eyes, completely thrown off. Of course she would accuse Kate of lying – innocent or not – but something about the way that she said it made me believe that she was, in fact, innocent. There was a truth in her eyes that was compelling me to believe there might be more to the story than what I'd been told by Kate.

"I don't expect you to, but that doesn't change the fact that it's the truth," she pointed out. "That's Kate's necklace, not mine," she muttered.

"I know. You gave it to her."

Anna violently shook her head. "No, I didn't! That's _her_ necklace; _she_ bought it; she's framing _me!_ " That last part caught my attention. Anna had begun to panic, for lack of a better word. She was pacing back and forth as she spoke, rambling, almost teary-eyed. This was the most emotion I'd seen from her since we'd met, and it was triggered by the necklace. I couldn't just ignore that.

"She's framing you?" I asked, intrigued.

"Has been from the start. I mean, I didn't know for sure it was her... I just had my sucpicions, but now..." She looked to the floor. "She killed Kenny," she accused, suddenly looking back at me again. "I swear to God it wasn't me."

"So, you're saying," I started, "that you're a witch, but, Kate's a witch, too?" She nodded.

"She killed Kenny because she found out about us. I was afraid I was next, so I started snooping. I went through Kenny's stuff, trying to find something with a trace of Kate on it – I know this spell you can do, kind of like a location spell, I guess? But it only works for other witches."

"You and Kate were friends for years, weren't you?" I asked. "You didn't have anything of hers yourself?"

"When we went our separate ways, it was pretty bad. She was mad, and so was I – I burned all her stuff. I should have kept it... But I had no idea she would ever do anything like this. She's still new."

I raised my eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'still new'?"

"To Wicca. I was teaching her. But I guess she started teaching herself. She's more powerful than I am."

I struggled to believe anything she was telling me. I still didn't trust her, even though my every instinct was telling me to. "How do I know that you aren't just telling me all this to frame Kate? Dean is practically obsessed with you but even he – "

"Don't tell Dean! Please," Anna begged. "I don't want him to hate me."

My eyes narrowed. _That_ I believed. "You actually care about him, don't you?"

"I don't know why," she chuckled half-heartedly. "I don't normally fall so easy. I mean, I _liked_ Kenny, a lot, but, it was never like this. But when I look into Dean's gorgeous eyes, it's like _I'm_ under a spell."

My whole body stiffened, heart racing as the pieces fell together. "What did you just say?"

"I know, ironic, right?"

I shook my head. "No, Anna! The _eyes!_ What did you just say about Dean's _eyes_?"

She stared at me for a second, a bit baffled. "They're... beautiful?"

 _The eyes._ It was all about the _eyes_. _"_ _Those beautiful blue eyes... I loved him with every fiber of my being."_ There was a flurry of thoughts in my mind as I remembered Kate's words. The most baffling thing about this case had been that the victim's eyes were missing – maybe I had this case all wrong. Maybe Anna wasn't going to use the spell to have Kate's attention again. Maybe Anna was telling the truth.

"There's a spell that Kate must be using to get Kenny back. It's why she took his eyes out. At first I thought that maybe you were going to replace your eyes with Kenny, to have Kate's attention again, but I guess Kate must just be planning to use the original spell, to have Kenny fall in love with her again and bring him back to life."

"That doesn't make sense," Anna said, finally putting her gun away. "I saw Kenny. Even if she wanted to bring him back, there's no way she could. That might have been her intentions, but she was too messy about it. He lost too much blood."

She was right. When Dean and I saw him at the coroner's office, he didn't have so much as a drop of blood left. "So do you think that's it, then? Maybe she just screwed up, and it's over now?"

Anna scoffed. "That's unlikely. She's always been a little bit... I'm gonna say crazy, though she hides it well. You know the only thing she really liked about Kenny was his eyes – I don't care what she said. She liked the attention he gave her, not him. That's why she was so mad when he fell for me. She hated to think that she'd lost the guy to me. Best bet? She's probably looking for a new host. Someone she can kill, and then replace their eyes with Kenny."

"Do you have any idea who she might target?"

My bravery was swallowed away when Anna looked at me, eyebrow raised, asking, "Where's Dean?"


	20. I Know What You Can Be

**(A/N: Hey guys! So I just wanted to apologize for the length in between updates. But I'm working on an actual novel, which is my main focus, and I've been putting more time into that since it's so close to being finished. But I haven't forgotten about this story! Don't leave me! I've got big plans for this, I just need to juggle my time better. This "episode" is clueing up in the next update or two, and the next storylines should be pretty interesting, so please, be patient! And don't worry, any loose ends not tied up in this "episode" will be tied in later ones, staying true to the show's style :) )**

 **(Dean's POV)**

It was hard to get a good view of the room without taking my eyes off Kate. But from what I could make out, this chick was borderline psychotic – even for a witch's standards. The dreary room was dimly lit, reeking of decomposition and even a hint of sulfur. Herbs and jars of ingredients lined the walls, candles lining the floors, and there were symbols drawn from wall to wall. Not a single thing in that room was giving me good vibes. I felt a small twinge of accomplishment, proud that I had proven Sam wrong, but I relished in that feeling for just a moment too long.

Cold iron crashed against the side of my head and I stumbled over, instinctively reaching my hand to the injury. I was bleeding, probably a lot. I glanced up at Kate to see her holding a cast iron fireplace poker, finally revealing her true face.

"I told you, Winchester, you're wasting your time." The woman who seemed previously meek and humble now towered over me, glaring. My first instinct was to reach for my gun, but she saw that coming, knocking it out of my hand with the poker and pointing it to my throat.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" I asked, enticing her to reveal some information.

Kate scoffed. "Well, I'm hardly letting you out of here alive, am I?" Kneeling down so we were eye level, she pressed the poker under my chin with just enough pressure to make me wince. "I've got plans for you, Dean Winchester. I know who you are, and I know who you can be."

I raised my brow as the words resonated with me. _I know who you can be_. "The hell is that supposed to mean, lady?"

"Sh, sh, shh," she whispered, grabbing my arms and tying me securely to the support beam behind me. "Never you mind, Winchester. Time is the worlds most vulnerable current, always constant and ever-changing. Throw one little pebble in – it creates a ripple. Time is vulnerable, Winchester, it doesn't take much to obstruct the path, redirect the current and flow. Time is vulnerable, Winchester. I'll fix this. I'll redirect your path."

By this point I could only imagine how bonkers this chick was. She was absolutely nuts, mumbling jibberish to herself, making me wonder if she was off her meds or something. It takes a crazy person to be a witch, but _man_ , this chick was a _special_ kind of crazy.

I watched her closely as she wandered around her creepy little room, running her fingers along the jars as if she were trying to decide which candy to buy from the shop. "So what's your plan, then?" I muttered. "What are you gonna do to me?"

Kate turned and smiled at me, yet there was an absent look on her face. "Do you ever trade, Dean?"

I straightened up as much as I could, being tied to the pole behind me and all. "Trade? Trade what?"

"Anything," she chirped. "A man for a man... a love for a love..." Her trailing hands paused over one jar in particular, and though she covered it, I knew what it held. "An eye for an eye, perhaps?"

I fidgeted my hands, trying to remove the binding rope while going unnoticed. I had to keep her talking. "Yeah, I don't know where you shop, Kate, but I don't think those things are on the market anymore."

"They're not," she shook her head, "that's why I trade for them, instead! I don't always want to. Sometimes people take what's mine, and I have to take what's theirs. It keeps the balance," she grinned.

"And I'm part of your trade?" I asked.

"Of course. Lizzy stole Kenny, so I'm stealing you."

"There's nothing going on between me and Lizzy."

Kate grabbed a random jar off the shelf and smashed it against the wall. "Don't be so daft, Dean. I told you. I know who you are. I've kept watch on you. Don't lie."

"Okay, okay," I replied quickly, putting my hands up defensively. _Oh... dammit Dean!_ Kate glanced at the rope on the floor, then to my hands now in front of me. "Well, uh..." I stammered, "this is kind of awkward, right?"

Before Kate could charge at me with fury, our heads whipped around to the front door being thrown open, Sam and Lizzy rushing inside, guns blazing.

"Don't move, Kate," Lizzy hissed, a little out of breath.

"Just in time," Kaitlyn smirked at her.

Sam glanced at me, eyeing the position I was in, probably wondering why it looked like I was about to surrender. I shrugged at him and he shook his head.

Kate tilted her head to the side, looking between Sam and I. "Interesting," she murmured.

"What's interesting?" Sam asked, gripping his gun more firmly.

"You can't see."

"What are you talking about?"

"You, Sam. You can't see." Kate shook her head sadly, eyes dropping. "You can't see Dean."

Lizzy's eyes flickered toward me, but back to Kate in an instant. "The hell does that mean, Kate?"

"It doesn't matter. Poor little Sammy can't see Dean, but soon enough, it will be Dean who can't see, and then there will be nothing _to_ see!"

"Wait, what? Is there something I'm missing here?" I asked a little panicky. _What does she mean, "it will be Dean who can't see"?_

"I told you, Winchester," Kate answered, tone dropping drastically. "A trade. Lizzy stole Kenny from me. So now I have to take you. You'll do, but your eyes aren't right." She held up the jar, uncovering it to reveal what were Kenny's missing eyes.

"Ohmygod," Lizzy whispered, covering her mouth. She stepped behind me, shielding her view by burying her face in my shoulder. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the feeling it gave me, but the circumstances could have been a little better.

"Oh, don't hide behind him, Liz. He doesn't belong to you anymore. His attention is going to be for me now, and me alone." She stepped towards us, and I got my defenses ready when she grabbed Lizzy's wrist, pulling her out from behind me. Lizzy put up her hand to stop me, and Kate let her wrist drop. Leaning in, she whispered to her, "When it's done, let me know how it feels."

A click echoed through the room, identifiable as the sound of Sam taking the safety off his gun. Kate held up her hands and muttered something in Latin, sending both Sam and Lizzy's gun to the floor next to mine. "I might be missing a couple of screws, but I'm not naive. Don't test me."

"I think there's more than a couple of screws missing," Lizzy spat.

Kate ran her finger under Lizzy's chin, directing her attention. "Don't act better than me, Lizzy. You made me everything that I am. You inspired me to be a better me. You taught me so much."

I glanced at Lizzy, confused. "Taught her... taught her what, Lizzy?" My gut wrenched, afraid of her answer, begging it not to be what I thought it was.

"Well, that's interesting, too," Kate sneered, grabbing Lizzy's face and looking her over, analyzing her.

"Dean, don't listen to her. She's taking it out of context!"

I scoffed. "Taking it out of context.. but that means it's still true, though, right? What did you teach her, Lizzy?"

"Dean," Sam chimed in, don't get worked up about it before you understand, okay? You were still right about her being on our side."

 _Are you friggen kidding me!?_ "You're a _witch_? Are you serious?"

Before she could respond, Kate's fingers wrapped around her neck, and she whispered more Latin in an almost eerily soothing voice. It wasn't a spell I was familiar with, but Lizzy fell to the floor, (I hoped) only passed out.

Sam reached out to catch her head from hitting the concrete. "Anna!"

" _Anna?_ Who the _hell_ is Anna?"

"Lizzy is the rocker chick, Anna is the girl you kept seeing around town. Anna's a Wiccan – Lizzy is Anna; they're the same person."

"Oh, thanks for the memo, Sam! Now, is there anything else I should know before the crazy chick tries to take my eyeballs out?!"

"Yes," Kate answered, holding her hand up to me. "The crazy chick doesn't like being called a crazy chick." Slowly, she enclosed her hand into a fist, and I felt the air being pulled away from my lungs. My throat was suddenly dry and scratchy, and I could barely gasp for the air that I needed. Sam made a lunge for her, but she worked her magic on him, too, sending him against the wall, buckled over and gasping for air.

It had only been a minute before my vision started going fuzzy and it faded to black. The last thing I remember hearing was the bang of a gun and loud thump of a body hitting the floor.


	21. Id Kill You But Then I Couldn't Kiss You

**(A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading & keep those reviews coming! It's what keeps me writing even when I feel like this story is crap! We're nearing the end of this "episode" (one more chapter I think) but remember, there will be more! I'm a little wary of the whole Lizzy/Anna thing... I know it might get confusing for some readers but to clarify, Lizzy is basically just Anna's stage name. They're the same person, and from this point on Sam and Dean will only refer to her as Anna. And for those of you wondering where the "angel" part of the title comes from, don't worry, Cas will be in this later ;) Let me know what you guys think; I love to hear from you guys!)**

 **(Anna's POV)**

"Dean? Dean, you okay?" I watched Sam hover over his brother as he finally started to come to. Silently I breathed a sigh of relief that I had gotten to Kate in time.

"Sam? What the hell happened?" Dean's dazed eyes focused on me. " _You_. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't waste you, right now."

"Dean, it's not what you think," Sam said calmly. He put his hands up as if he were getting ready to stop Dean from tackling me. The thought pulled at my heartstrings.

"I'm still on your side, Dean," I mumbled timidly.

"The hell you are," he muttered. Sam gave me an apologetic look as he tried to help Dean stand up, who abruptly refused the help. Brushing of his jacket, he turned to see a limp Kate in a heap on the floor, surrounded by a small pool of blood. He pointed over his shoulder, eyes darting between myself and Sam. "Who did that?"

Sam nodded in my direction. I didn't know what it was about this man that drew me to him, but something so small as his eyes being on me... I wasn't me usual cynical self around him. In even just these few days he'd been in town, I had already stopped burying my emotions in the pit of my stomach. One look was all it took to melt the cold, heartless bitch that I was, apparently.

"You were out cold," Dean's husky voice sent shivers up my spine and left me speechless. From my pocket, I hooked my finger around the thin chain and tossed Kate's necklace to him. He caught it, turning it over in his hands, analyzing it. "Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

"That necklace was Kate's," Sam said after a moment. "It's a protective charm."

I cleared my dry throat, finally able to speak to Dean despite his glowering eyes on me. "Gifted to her via yours truly," I muttered, crossing my arms.

His glossy green eyes looked me up and down, with such an intensity that it made me uncomfortable, and I began shifting my weight from foot to foot. Something about this made his face soften, and he replied, "You've got sixty seconds to talk. After that, if I decide I don't believe you, or that I don't like what I hear, then I don't wanna see you again before we leave this town and I sure as hell better not see you after. We clear?"

"Crystal." I snatched the necklace from his hands. "I cast a charm on this necklace a few years ago," I recalled, noting how Dean almost seemed to flinch at the thought of me casting spells. "A powerful one, too." I threw that in for good measure. A little spiteful, but if he wasn't going to be open minded then I wasn't going to spare him the details.

"You going somewhere with this?" He huffed.

I raised an eyebrow, smirking tauntingly. "Are my sixty seconds up already?" He ran his tongue over his teeth impatiently, nodding at me to continue. "I gave this to Kate a while back, before she started going off the rails. I was teaching her Wicca, but I wanted her to be safe, so I gave her the necklace. She never wore it, obviously. I didn't know how much she hated me. That spell she used on me should have left me dead. The necklace reduced its power to maybe a third, just knocking me out for a little bit. I doubt Kate even knew its power."

"Kate gave me that," Sam said to Dean, pointing at the necklace. "She tried to set up Lizzy. She's been playing us from the start, trying to frame her. You were right about Kate, Dean, and Lizzy."

"Oh, we're back to Lizzy now?" Dean shot bitterly. "You know what, can we send out memos on this? Because I thought you were going by Anna now; I mean, I just can't seem to keep up."

"Drop the sarcasm, would you?" I glared. _There might be something between us, Dean – There_ is _something between us, but you don't know a damn thing that I've had to go through._ "I've got my reasons for the name change," I replied solemnly.

"Oh, the name change is the least of my worries. I'm a little more concerned about the fact that you're a freaking _witch_ , Anna! If that's even your real name!"

"It is!" I yelled with fury.

"Sammy, can you excuse us?" Dean asked, keeping eyes locked with me.

"Um not to kill the intensity of the moment," Sam started awkwardly, "but is this really the room you guys wanna have this conversation in?"

Dean and I gave the room a once-over, remembering the dead body on the floor just a few feet away. With an almost comedic shrug, we followed Sam to where he stayed in the living room, while we continued up the stairs to Kate's bedroom. My palms were sweaty as I wrapped my hand around the doorknob, closing it behind us. This was not going to be a conversation I wanted to have. Not with anybody, but sure as hell not with someone I let myself fall for so easily. When I turned away from the door, Dean was just inches away from me, watching me with a scowl that made my heart momentarily stop.

"Well?" he whispered.

"Well what?" I responded, not sure exactly what it was he was looking for as a response.

"You're a _witch_ , Anna! You didn't think that might be something you should've told me?"

"What was I supposed to say, Dean? 'Oh, by the way, I practice magic in my basement'?"

"I told you I was a hunter!"

I scoffed, glaring at him. "Yeah, right before you told me you were chasing after a Wiccan. 'They're like Cancer in human form,' I think is what you said."

He stared back at me , nostrils flaring. This was the most honest emotion I'd gotten out of him since I'd met him. Though, to be fair, I we were pretty on par when it came to honesty. "You told Sam," he said coldly.

"Sam _found out_ ," I hissed through clenched teeth. "I didn't tell him. Neither one of you were supposed to know about this, and this is exactly why." He stared at me in silence, making me angry. "Look, I'm not the bad guy, okay? I'm not the witch you were after, so why the hell does it even matter!"

"Because you – "

"Didn't tell you. You said that," I cut him off. "I'm a witch. I didn't tell you. I get that. But my question is which of those things is bothering you more – because one we can move on from, the other we can't."

Still silent, he stared back at me. Something in his face changed though – it became softer, maybe at the thought of us not moving on from this. Using this to my advantage, I repeated, "I'm not the bad guy, Dean. I've never been in trouble with the law, with my coven; I've never hurt anybody – well," I reconsidered this, "nobody human. Before... today, obviously, but," I shook my head as I started to ramble, trying to put myself back on track. "There's such a thing as _good_ witches, Dean. Yesterday you wanted me to go on the road with you and your brother; Don't let my religion change that."

This time, he let my words sink in, but he did respond. Voice softer, less angry. "So what, then? We just pretend that you're not a witch and I'm not a hunter and just go on with our messed up lives together?"

I shook my head. "No, we just pretend that _it doesn't matter_."

He stepped towards me, closing in on the space between us. His eyes scanned my body, and he hesitantly placed his hands on the wall behind me, trapping me between them. "Alright. It doesn't matter. But the first time I so much as _suspect_ you of messing with the kind of magic you shouldn't be, I won't hesitate to kill you."

I pouted at him playfully, toying with the collar of his jacket. "Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty to me." Finally, by some miracle, Dean glanced at my lips, begging him to kiss me, and smirked.

"Yeah, well, I _would_ just kill you right here and now, but necrophilia's not really my thing and I really wanna make out with you right now."

I smiled, tugging on his collar and pulling him close.


	22. On The Road Again

**_(A/N: Alright my lovely SPN fans! This is the last installment for this Episode! The next episode will still be listed under this title (I'm keeping it all as one file, rather than making a bunch of sequel stories) , but I'm not sure when it will be posted. I want to make sure that I have the entire episode mapped out before I begin writing, to make sure that everything flows smoothly and I can manipulate it in the future, to link with future cases the boys & Anna will solve. Side note, don't worry Castiel fans, I'm hoping he'll make an appearance soon - there just wasn't really anywhere for him to cleanly fit in this Episode. Please read, share, review, and enjoy!)_**

 **(Sam's POV)**

I began packing up our stuff the next morning, having it ready for whenever the hell Dean decided to return with the Impala. He'd spent the night at Anna's, presumably, leaving me stuck with the packing as usual. Finally, just as the clock was nearing noon, Baby pulled into the motel parking lot, passenger seat surprisingly empty.

"I thought Anna was coming with us?" I asked, meeting Dean at the steps to the door.

"She is; she's gotta grab a few more things first. She'll meet us here."

I nodded. Never, in all our years as hunters, had we ever brought another person on the road with us – at least not someone who wasn't another hunter, or Castiel. Sure, Anna was a witch, and she probably knew what was out there, but we were going to be responsible for her safety. More importantly, if she and Dean continued being... whatever they were, it could pose any multitude of problems on a case. If she was in danger, he would make irrational decisions to protect her. If they got in a fight, his anger might blind him into making wrong or harsh calls. Sensing my concern, he sighed. "Sam, listen man, if you don't want her to come..."

"No, no. It's not that Dean," I lied. I liked Anna, and she's earned my trust, but we did still only just meet her. We knew nothing about her, or what set her off. It was risky. "I just think we need to be careful. You especially. We don't know yet what Anna is capable of."

"Don't worry, Sammy, I've already made it very clear what I would do to her if she tried any funny business."

"Yeah, well, not anything you were doing to her last night, I hope." I chuckled as a dirty smirk crossed his face. It quickly faded, though, and was replaced with a more somber, deep in thought look. "What is it, Dean?"

He hesitated. "Before you guys showed up... She was babbling all all kinds of nonsense anyway, but Kate said that she knew me."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"'I know who you are, and I know who you can be'. Her exact words."

"So?" I shrugged. "Kate was a witch, Dean. A pretty nasty one, too. She'd played us from day one – she knew exactly why we were in town and why we were snooping around. She'd probably just heard our names floating around and meant that she knew we were hunters or something."

"Okay," he answered, grabbing some bags I passed him and loading them into Baby's trunk. "But that still doesn't explain the last bit. I mean, 'I know who you can be'? Who spouts that kind of Shakespearean crap?"

"Well, it's obvious you've never so much as _glanced_ at a Shakspearean play," I joked. "I'd say it's more cryptic, than anything."

"Sure, _cryptic._ Whatever. What the hell is it supposed to mean, though? And then there's what she said to you," he recalled, gesturing. "She said that you couldn't see me. So unless you're going Hellen Keller and I'm the last to know about it," I shrugged off the offensive reference, letting him continue, "I don't know what the hell she was talking about."

Finally having fit our last bags into the trunk, we sat down on the steps to wait for Anna and rest. "You said it yourself, Dean, she was out of her mind. I don't think that Kate really knew _what_ she was saying. I think she was just too far gone. Overcome with power, or something." Albeit, he was right – at the time Kate's words had been disorienting. But now that she was dead, I really didn't see any reason to worry about it. I just hoped that our new passenger wouldn't carry the same fate.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean mumbled, taking a sip of the beer he'd grabbed from the trunk before we closed it. The sound of tires on gravel brought our attention to the taxicab pulling up in front of us.

"Why'd she get a van?" I asked.

Dean shrugged. "Maybe it was the only one they had available?"

The door slid open, a brunette Anna jumping out. "Hey boys!" she greeted cheerily.

I nodded, and Dean raised his beer. The cab driver got out, walking around the van to open the trunk for Anna. They pulled out two massive duffel bags each, followed by a huge suitcase – which the cab driver clearly struggled to lift. "Ready to hit the road?" Anna asked.

Dean and I glanced at each other. He looked, ironically, like he'd just seen a ghost. "Dude, I think we're gonna need to rearrange the trunk."


	23. A Questionable Start

_***A/N: Hey guys! So I would like to apologize for not updating lately, I've gone through a lot the past few months and am still trying to sort out my messy life. But I should be getting back on track with this story soon. This update is kind of short, but in my defense that's only because I spent a lot of my time working on it mapping out the entire plot for this "episode". We'll be seeing a lot of Castiel in this one, to make up for him not being in the last Episode at all. I hope to update again very soon, but in the meantime, keep those comments & favorites rolling in! Thanks to all 3  
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I wish I owned Sammy! :p***_

 **(Sam's POV)**

I reached over to turn up the volume of the radio as myself, Dean, and our new passenger Anna drove along the highway on our way back to Bobby's. I scoffed as Dean glared at me from the driver's seat, turning the music back down.

"The hell are you doing that for, Sammy?" he asked, already agitated from bickering with Anna. "We're in the middle of a discussion and you're just gonna drown us out?"

"I believe what you two are doing is commonly referred to as _arguing_ , Dean."

Almost comically, he looked appalled. "We're not arguing. Anna, are we arguing?"

I glanced at her through the rear view mirror. Head resting on the window, staring outside, she didn't look too thrilled. "We wouldn't be, if you didn't make me ditch all my stuff," she muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Well what do you expect me to do, huh? We've got a four seat car with three passengers! We couldn't fit everything; this isn't a minivan."

"Most of what you made me get rid of was my Wicca stuff, Dean."

"You wanted to bring your _entire_ altar! Table included! Besides, Bobby's gonna have a fit over the stuff I let you bring as it is. This is life on the road, Anna. You don't get to have nice things and things don't always go your way. Tough it out."

"I don't need you to lecture me on life on the road, Dean! It's not the first time I've – "

"Guys!" I yelled finally, rubbing my temples to relieve my headache. "Can you stop!? Please! Why don't we just pull over at a gas station, get something to eat, and all get some fresh air. We've been on the road for hours, and we're all tired and aggravated. Let's just take a break."

I breathed a sigh of relief as Dean agreed and soon pulled into a gas station with a small diner inside. Anna hopped out immediately, lighting up a cigarette but dropping it after only a few short puffs. "I'm gonna go find the bathroom," she mumbled.

Dean watched as she walked away. "Why are hot chicks so high maintenance?" He asked, pumping gas into Baby.

I leaned on the side of the car, arms crossed. "We're not off to a flying start, Dean," I said.

"What do you mean?"

I chuckled at his ability to pretend he was oblivious. "I mean, We've been on the road for one day, and you two are already fighting? Over her Wicca stuff, no less? Are you really sure it's a good idea to bring her with us?"

"It was just a fight dude. A stupid one. It's not a big deal," he shrugged.

I sighed. "And how do you think Bobby's gonna react when we show up with her? Have you even told him yet?"

"I'm working on it." He closed Baby's gas cap and I followed him into the gas station.

"Look, all I'm saying, Dean, is that maybe we should reconsider."

"Yesterday you were telling me it was fine," he grumbled, grabbing a bag of chips and throwing it on the counter.

"I like Anna, I do. But if you guys are already having problems..."

"We're not having problems, okay?" He stated, sounding exasperated. "One little argument does not mean it's the end of the world, alright? It's like you said, we're all just tired from being on the road so long. I guarantee you, once we get to Bobby's everything will be fine."

 _Yeah, tell that to Bobby,_ I thought. "Alright, Dean, whatever you say," I complied.

Anna came out of the bathroom joining us at the counter. Once Dean paid for everything we sat at the diner and had lunch. Dean and Anna both seemed to have cooled off, though Anna seemed a little like she still had something on her mind. She absentmindedly pushed her food around with her fork, occasionally laughing or flashing Dean a small smile at something he'd say. She reminded me of Dean in that way, pretending she was fine when it was obvious she wasn't. Thought we'd only met her a few days ago, I didn't doubt Anna's feelings for Dean. But knowing how Dean feels about witches, I couldn't imagine how hard it was on her when he made her leave some supplies behind. I understood both sides of the spectrum. We really didn't have room for her to bring everything, but at the same time, Wicca was a religion to her, and Dean was very adamant about her specifically leaving Wiccan tools. It would be like telling a Christian they weren't allowed to pray. I was sure that in Anna's mind, she felt like Dean was attacking her religion.

We were soon back on the road, and made it to Bobby's shortly after dusk. Anna looked peacefully asleep in the back seat. Dean turned off the car and rubbed his eyes, also ready to hit the hay. "How do you think Bobby's gonna take it?" I asked quietly, glancing at our sleeping passenger.

"What? Anna? It'll be fine," he whispered. "She's here, now. What's he gonna do? Tell her to leave?"

"You don't think that's a possibility?"

Dean shook his head, lips pursed. "I'm not saying he's gonna like it, but the girl's thousands of miles from home now. I can't see Bobby kicking her to the curb with nowhere to go."

I thought back to Dean's earlier comment to Anna, about being on the road. Before I told them both to shut up, it sounded like Anna was going to say something about being on the road life herself. Hesitantly, I asked, "Dean, what do you think Anna meant? What she was saying about being on the road before I cut her off?"

He shrugged, looking back at her, smiling softly. "She's a rocker chick, Sammy. She's probably just been on tours and stuff. Don't read so much into her. Trust me, the girl's more cryptic than I am – _I_ can't even figure her out yet. It's like you said, we don't know anything about her, but that goes both ways. She just met us, and a lot happened the past couple days. We've gotta give her time to open up."

That was true. But, seeing as she reminded me so much of Dean, I wasn't sure if she ever would open up to us.


	24. Family Doesn't End With Blood

_***A/N: Hey guys! Told you I'd update soon :) This chapter provides a little backstory on Anna, though it may still raise questions. But take note of the little things - far later in the series her past will come into play in a very big way, I think. I'm hoping to have the next chapter ready by next week, and i PROMISE Castiel will be in that one! Review, Favorite, Follow!***_

 **(Anna's POV)**

I made my eyelids flutter as the boys nudged me. Pretending to just now be waking up, I yawned and rubbed my eyes, but I had actually woken up a few minutes before. Long enough to hear their conversation about me, at least. I could have interjected, but there didn't really seem to be much point. Truth was, I wasn't sure those brothers had _any_ idea what a checkered past I had. Me being on the road had nothing to do with my music. Hell, my persona as Lizzy Styles was nothing more than a product of an alias – she was nothing more than a name I used to hide my identity, start a new life while I was running away from my old one. But you can't run away from your past, and mine was catching up to me. I should have known better than to think I could settle in one town forever; it was only a matter of time before I was found out. Dean was my saving grace. He gave me an opportunity for an out. I hoped we would be on the road enough that I couldn't be found again. If I was, I'd be putting the Winchesters in danger. But likewise, as they had made clear to me before hitting the road, chances were I would always be in danger with them, anyway.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Dean smirked as he shone a flashlight in my face.

"Alright, alright," I grumbled. "I'm awake, jeez." I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing it out and checking out my reflection in the rear view. From the sounds of things, this Bobby guy didn't take a liking to witches, either, so I was going to have to make a good impression.

"You think he's still up?" Sam asked Dean, noticing there was only one light on in the house.

"Who, Bobby?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Yeah, he's up, he's expecting us."

"He's expecting _you guys_ ," I corrected him.

Dean turned around to face me, about to speak, but hesitated. "He's gonna like you. Just... maybe don't tell him right away that you practice magic in your basement." I chuckled absentmindedly at the reference to what I'd said at Kate's house. Kate... _She_ was the kind of witch that Dean and Bobby presumably hated. She was the kind of witch Dean thought I might become one day. "Hey, Anna," Dean snapped his fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. "You passing out on us again?"

Sam smiled at me. "Come on, let's get inside. The sooner introductions are over with, the sooner you can get back to sleep."

"Yeah," Dean agreed cheekily as we got out of the car, "or, you know, _not_."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I smirked at him, walking by and leaving him to grab all my bags.

"Well, I'm just saying, new house, new town... You might be anxious! It might make it difficult for you to sleep."

"Something tells me it'll be your hard-on making it difficult to sleep, Dean." Sam cleared his throat loudly, embarrassed by my bluntness. I chuckled.

I let the brothers walk into the house first, while I stayed close behind Dean. My stomach fluttered with nerves, though I wasn't sure why. I had never been the nervous type. Then again, I was a witch traveling with two hunters who was about to meet one more, so,perhaps it was reasonable.

"Boys, you're back earlier than I expected," the aging man greeted happily. He hugged both boys, and then his eyes fell on me. His expression changed slightly. "And who's this _girl_ you brought with you?" He asked, still locking eyes with me.

I held out my hand, though his tone on the word 'girl' had me somewhat cold. "The name's L–" I bit my tongue, catching myself. Spending two years under an alias was going to be a difficult habit to break. "Anna," I smiled. "And I believe I graduated from _girl_ to _woman_ when I turned eighteen about four years ago." I felt Sam uncomfortable beside me, while Dean fake-coughed to cover his chuckle. "And you are?" I asked, fluttering my eyelashes to get my point across. _I may be a guest in your home, but I'm not about to let you belittle me._

His eyes flickered to my outstretched hand, but he made no move to return the gesture, so I lowered it. "Bobby," he replied flatly. "Boys? Can I speak to you in the kitchen, please? _Now?_ "

Dean gave my hand a quick squeeze as he and Sam went in to the kitchen, something I was sure Bobby took notice of. Quietly and slowly, I took off my shoes and tiptoed around the corner.

"The _hell_ are you idjits doin' bringing back some _girl_ with you!? The hell are you boys thinking?"

"Look, Bobby, I can explain," Dean replied calmly.

I peeked around the corner just enough to watch without being seen. Bobby rolled his eyes and turned to Sam. "Oh, don't tell me this is Lovebug Girl..." I raised my eyebrow. _Lovebug Girl, huh Dean?_

Sam nodded, crossing his arms. He looked down at the floor like a child who'd just been caught doing something he was explicitly told not to. It was kinda cute. Bobby shook his head and paced in a circle a couple of times. He stopped, hitting Dean over the head with a newspaper he swiped off the counter. "Idjit. You can't just go bring back any girl that makes your heart flutter! What the hell is the matter with you!"

Dean looked like he was growing increasingly annoyed and tired of the conversation. "Bobby, I don't see what the big deal is," he muttered flatly.

"Oh, no? Well, let me put it into perspective for you, Loverboy. This is _my_ damn house. We follow _my_ damn rules. You're smarter than this, Dean. The kind of lives we lead? We don't get to have personal attachments like this – not unless you wanna put the girl in danger. Everyone staying in this house is under _my_ damn watch and I will not be responsible for some clueless civilian getting hurt because _you're_ a selfish idiot who can't keep it in his pants!"

"It's not like that, Bobby!" Dean snapped, soon looking like he regretted it.

Bobby took a step back. "Not like _what_? Don't tell me you actually got feelings for this girl?"

Dean scoffed. "That's not what I meant," he mumbled.

"Then what did you mean?"

"She knows. She knows what we do."

"Oh, _good_!" Bobby scoffed sarcastically. "Good, she _knows_! All the more reason she shouldn't be with us, Dean. Use your brain. Do you know how much danger you've put this girl in just by bringing her back here?"

"She's not just a regular civilian, Bobby," Sam finally spoke up.

Dean hit him. "Dude!"

Bobby eyed them both. "What does that mean?" _Oh, just tell him for God's sake,_ I thought.

"She's..." Sam started, earning a glare from Dean.

I stepped out of my hiding place, wanting the argument to end so we could all just go to bed. "I'm Wiccan. I'm a witch," I spoke up, leaning on the doorframe.

Bobby looked at me in awe. "I know what a Wiccan is," he said finally. "You're also an eavesdropper, apparently," he said coldly.

I scoffed. "Well it's not like I wouldn't have heard you standing in the front porch! If you want to have a private conversation you should do it behind closed doors."

"Don't tell me how to act in my own house!" he yelled.

"Don't talk about me while I'm two feet away as if I'm deaf and can't hear you!" I spat. I glanced at Dean. I wanted to stay, but my witchcraft seemed to be a rising problem. "Look, if it's that big of an issue, I'll leave," I mumbled.

"You're not leaving, Anna," Dean responded.

Bobby turned his head. "Oh, hi, I'm Bobby, you must be the homeowner, _Dean_!" If he wasn't all up in a twist about _me_ , I'd probably like this guy. His cynical remarks were similar to mine. "Sam? Don't tell me you're alright with this," he asked.

I looked at Sam, curious. When they were looking for Kenny's killer, Sam suspected me from the start. I'd earned some level of trust from him since, but I wasn't sure to what extent. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, the situation's not ideal," he started.

"And by 'situation', you mean the fact that I'm a witch," I interjected.

He looked at me apologetically. "We _are_ hunters, Anna. And we did only just meet you." I pursed my lips, though I supposed that was fair. "But," he continued, "she did help us out on the Hutchings case. Saved us, actually. The way I see it, we know what she is and she knows what we are. So I don't see any reason that any one of us would try anything against the other. If she meant us any harm, she could've done that when we were still in Illinois; she has no reason to wait until now. If she wanted us dead we'd be dead already... and vice versa." _Well said, Sam._

Bobby looked at me, pointing his finger in front of my face. "The _second_ I suspect you of _anything_ – "

"Save your breath, Bobby. Dean already gave me that threat."

"Dean," he said, "Don't go thinkin' this conversation is over. But it's too damn late; I'm going the hell to bed. We can pick this up in the morning." The old man stormed off, shooting us all icy glares along his way. As soon as he was out of the room, we breathed a unanimous sigh of relief. I glanced at the clock on the stove. Nearly four AM. "It is getting pretty late," I said quietly. "I'm gonna go smoke and then crash, too."

I grabbed my cigarettes and went to the front patio, leaning on the railing and staring into the darkness ahead. Bobby's conversation with Sam and Dean played over in my head. In particular the part about them putting me in danger. _Little do they know..._

"Well, I think Bobby took that pretty well, if you ask me," Dean's voice came from behind me. He joined me at the railing, putting his hand out for my cigarette just after I lit it.

I handed it to him and watched him take a puff. "I didn't think you smoked."

"I don't," he chuckled, handing it back.

"You don't take it well when Bobby's mad at you, huh?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I was watching you two while he was going off. You looked like a couple of kids being sent to time out."

He smiled. "Bobby's like a father to us. He practically raised us. We're not blood, but we're family. And, I guess with being a hunter..."

"Family's all you got," I finished for him.

His eyes stared deep into mine. "Where's yours?" he asked softly.

I pulled out a locket I had tucked into my shirt. Clutching it in my hand, I whispered, voice cracking, "Right here." I opened it and showed him the picture of the blonde haired boy inside, just twelve years old.

"That your brother?" I nodded. "What about your parents?"

"What about yours?" I asked him. He looked down, silent. _Figured_. Something told me that both of us had lost our parents, as a product of the danger from the lives we lived. "My parents died when we were still young," I said after a deep breath. "They were kind of shit anyway, so I didn't care. But Michael," I sighed, taking a minute to keep my tears at bay. "It was hard on him. He didn't understand exactly what happened, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him. It put a strain on us."

"What did happen?" I grazed my tongue along my teeth, cleared my throat. My mouth got too dry to speak. After a moment, Dean spoke again. "Where's your brother now?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "When he turned eighteen, he took off. At first he sent me letters, to let me know that he was still alive, but the letters stopped nearly two years ago." _Just around the same time I had to go into hiding_ , I thought. "He never gave me any locations, no way for me to track him down, no return address on any of the letters. I don't know whether he's dead or alive."

Dean cleared his throat. "Well, look, if it's any consolation, you've got us now. Now, I don't like that you're a witch..." I scoffed. "But there's something about you that makes me trust you. I don't know what it is, but it's there. If there's one thing that Bobby's taught me, it's that," he paused. "It's that family doesn't end with blood. We're not a big family, but we're close. We're a little dysfunctional," he shrugged smugly, "but we look out for each other. So, you know, we're here, if you want to be a part of it."

I smiled. He was charmingly awkward through every word, but the gesture was sweet. "Thanks, Dean," I said. "But I think Bobby might have some issues with that," I joked.

"Nah, he'll warm up to you."

"You sure about that?"

"I did, didn't I?"

I grinned at him. "Yeah, I guess you did." A gust of wind blew a few strands of hair in front of my face, but Dean brushed them away, tucking them behind my ear. He moved his hand to my cheek, and I caught his eyes staring at my lips longingly. "What are you waiting for?" I asked. "Warm up to me already." With a smirk, he leaned in and kissed me, and for a while I didn't care if danger and family were a package deal.


	25. God is Real, But So Is The Apocalypse

**(A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking a little while to post this chapter, but I was on vacation visiting home for two weeks. This Episode might be a little slower going at first than the last one, but I also plan for this case to be more in depth, as a lot of it will come into play later in the story. So please bear with me during the dry parts, I'll try to keep it as interesting as I can! Also please comment, favorite, or follow if you enjoy! It's your guys' feedback that keeps me motivated! :) )**

 **(Dean's POV)**

The next morning came way too soon. And, given that myself and Anna shared a room, I didn't get near as much sleep as I'd wanted to. By the time round three was over, it was just a couple hours from noon. Bobby kicked my ass out of bed around one pm, but judging by how I had sprawled across the bed in my sleep, Anna was already up. I threw on a pair of pajama pants and headed down the stairs, the glorious smell of bacon wafting in my direction. In the kitchen I found I had been the last to wake up; Bobby was sitting at the table reading the paper and drinking coffee, Sam was already sitting in front of his laptop, no doubt searching for our next case. And Anna was – _Holy crap._ "Woah," I said uncontrollably.

Standing in front of me was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen; It was like something out of every guy's fantasy. Anna, wearing _nothing_ but the t shirt I had on last night (which barely covered her ass), was in Bobby's kitchen, voluntarily cooking us every breakfast food I could possibly imagine. Her hair was still a mess from our wild night, but _damn_ she wore the look well. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she greeted me with a kiss.

"Uh, morning," I stuttered, distracted. Sam coughed obnoxiously loud, drawing my attention to him. He pointed at his mouth, made a wiping motion, and mouthed _"You're drooling."_ I flipped him off, hiding my hand behind my back quickly as Anna turned around again. She set a plate full of food in front of both Sam and Bobby.

"Thank you, Anna," Bobby said, surprisingly cheerful. "Lord knows these two idjits never cooked for me."

She smiled, "Yeah, well, I figure if you're letting me stay here I may as well earn my keep."

I raised an eyebrow suspiciously, crossing my arms. "You two became friends awful quick."

"Yeah, we did. Guess you were right, Dean," Anna replied, "he just needed to warm up to me."

"Yeah, Dean," Bobby said, voice full of taunting undertones, "I just needed to warm up to her!" His eyes looked over the edge of the newspaper as Anna turned back to the stove. _You dirty old man, you're checking her out!_ Though I couldn't really blame him. The girl was a sight for sore eyes, and it had been a long while since any of us had a woman in our lives at all – let alone one who would be staying with us and cooking for us in what may as well have been lingerie. Surprisingly, Sam somehow seemed immune to the breathtaking view that was Anna. So far, this morning at least, he'd done nothing more than glance at Bobby and grin after the comment he'd just made. And then he was right back to typing, completely zoned in on his laptop. The guy seriously needed a life.

I joined Sam and Bobby at the table as Anna served me a plate, as well. "You got anything yet, Sammy?"

He shook his head. "You know, it's weird. I've gone through news headlines and crime reports for over a dozen towns by now, and there hasn't been a single red flag. Nothing that sounds like our thing at all."

"Fine by me." I reached over the table and snatched an extra piece of bacon off his plate, earning a smack on the arm from Anna. Stuffing it in my mouth, I continued, "Guess we get the day off, boys and girls."

Blatantly ignoring me, he mumbled to himself, "I wonder if Cass has anything we can look into."

"Who's Cass?" Anna asked with a mouth full of eggs.

Sam, Bobby, and I exchanged glances. Sure, Anna might know about witchcraft, and maybe a few other things, but what were the chances she knew about angels? _We_ didn't even know they existed until just over a year ago.

 _Let's break it to her easy, Sam,_ I thought, as if he could hear me. _Let's not give the girl the shock of her life._

Anna looked back and forth between us all. "What? Who is Cass?"

"I'm not sure you'll even believe us," Sam said with a bit of a scoff.

She rolled her eyes. "Try me."

"Okay," Sam said with a shrug. "Well, uh, as it turns out, Cass is – "

Right on cue, a gush of cold air filled the kitchen with a whoosh, and there Cass stood in front of our kitchen table, trench coat and all. Anna swirled out of her seat, and I had to jump out of mine to keep her from roundhouse kicking Cass in the face. I grabbed her arms and held her back, Sam and Bobby rushing to assure her it was okay. "What is this? Who are _you_?" She glared at him, shrugging me off. It wasn't hard to tell she was trying to intimidate him, but the crack in her voice gave away her fear. _That's gonna be something we'll need to work on._

"Anna, this is Cass. Castiel, this is Anna," Sam introduced them.

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced at me for confirmation. I nodded. Leaning on the back of my chair, I said slowly, "Castiel is an angel."

Anna took a step backward from us all, letting out a sharp laugh. "Wh – what do you mean, he's an _angel_?" She subtly shook her head, like she knew we were telling the truth but was trying to convince herself otherwise. "Okay, ghosts? I buy. Vampires? Maybe. But a freakin' angel?" She shook her head again, starting to pace. "No, no. You've gotta be kidding me."

I sighed, glancing in Cass's direction. "We really gotta work on how you enter a room, man."

He looked back at me, confused, as usual. "How do you mean? I entered the same as I always do."

Sam chuckled. "I think it's more your timing that needs work."

"We were hoping to explain to Anna what you were _before_ you swooshed in and scared the crap out of her," I added. I put my hand on Anna's shoulder for support. The girl was pale in the face – I half expected her to pass out at any minute. "Anna, you good?"

She scoffed, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "Let me just make sure that I'm understanding correctly. You – what was your name again?"

"Castiel," he answered.

"Right, Castiel." She rubbed her temples, resting her elbows on the table. "And you're a..."

"Angel."

"Angel, right," Anna muttered. She sounded distant, like she was almost in a daze. I guess it was a lot for her to process. She stared blankly at the space in front of her. "Angel... as in, the Bible, angel? As in, God really exists?"

Ignoring her question, Castiel raised an eyebrow at me. "Who is this woman?"

"She's Dean's new special friend," Bobby replied with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.

"What makes her special?" Sam and Bobby chuckled, and I guess Cass clued in because his facial expression changed, looking slightly disturbed. "Oh, you two have intercourse."

"Cass!" I hissed. "Seriously, dude?"

Anna stared between me and Cass, wide eyed. Sam cut in, breaking the awkward silence. "Cass, maybe you should answer Anna's question."

"Yes, God is real," he replied flatly. "So are angels, and demons, heaven and hell. But I'm afraid we have more pressing matters to discuss."

 _Of course,_ I thought, _cause it's so much to ask that we get a day off._ "Come on, Cass. Can't it wait long enough for Anna to process this?"

She stood up, shaking her head. "No, it's fine, Dean." That's what she said, but her tone told me otherwise. "Please, don't let me keep you from such 'pressing matters'," she mocked. "I was just heading out to smoke anyway." She shuffled past me in a hurry, grabbing her jacket from the coat hanger on her way. I flinched as the door closed with a bang.

Through the kitchen window, I could see Anna run her hands through her hair, rub her temples and eyes, and leaning back on the railing of the patio, before letting out a deep sigh and finally lighting her cigarette. If she couldn't handle this... If she was going to react like this every time we went on a case, it was going to put a lot of stress on her. "Maybe I should go talk to her," I mumbled.

"Dean, maybe you should just give her some time alone." Sam was watching her, too, sounding slightly concerned.

"Well I can't just leave her out there when she's obviously upset!"

"Of course she's upset, Dean," he shrugged. "Think about it. We just told her that God exists, and, at least from my impression, she turned to Wicca because she thought that he _didn't_. So essentially, we just told her that everything she believes is wrong. Just imagine what that must be like for her. She could probably use some time by herself to let it all sink in."

I looked out the window again. Anna was now back on, still smoking and leaning on the railing. Sam was probably right, though I didn't want to admit it. I was still torn on whether or not I should go talk to her – this relationship was new; I didn't want to screw it up this early by not seeing if she was okay. But Cass was still waiting impatiently, and he did have his serious face on, so I decided I should probably focus on whatever he had to say. With a sigh of defeat, I asked, "Alright, Cass, what's going on that's so important?"

"Nothing," he replied, monotone.

Bobby scoffed. "The hell do you mean, _nothing_? You got a couple screws loose or somethin'?" _Well, we knew that already._

Cass scowled, unimpressed by the comment. "I mean, things are too quiet. There's been nothing going on demon-wise aside from a few isolated cases. I've been tuning in to angel radio; the others are starting to get suspicious too."

I raised an eyebrow at Sam. "I guess that explains why you haven't found us a case yet."

"And it's unlikely that you will," Cass continued. "The demons haven't stirred up any trouble in weeks. Even vampires, werewolves, other creatures... there's been a steady decline in activity. It's as if they're disappearing."

"Good," Bobby said. "They can do our job for us."

"That's unlikely. If they were disappearing at this rate the angels would know at least _something_ about it. My guess is the demons are plotting something, but they're reeling in the other creatures to help. But if that's the case..."

"Chances are it's gonna be the apocalypse all over again," Sam finished.

I shuddered at the thought. The word alone made my skin crawl. We'd been through our fair share of apocalypses, and we pulled through every time – but not without taking some damage and earning some baggage. That shit didn't leave us, as much as we tried to pretend we'd blocked it out. And now, with Anna in the picture, things were going to get more difficult.

Now, I had something to lose.


	26. The Angel in the Trenchcoat

_**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for being so patient, and sorry again for the long wait between updates. Life is just so hectic! I haven't forgotten about this story and I intend to keep it going, just a little at a time. I'd like to point out that this chapter is short, but I should have the next one up in a couple days. It deals with religion a little bit, which I try to avoid so that I don't offend anybody, but this is kindof a necessary lead- up for future chapters in this Episode. This chapter is short and a little dry, but bare with me, this Episode is gonna be good! :)**_

 **(Anna's POV)**

I closed the door behind me, sinking down to the patio steps. I sat and breathed a defeated sigh. "Angels, huh?" I mumbled to myself.

"Yes, angels."

I rolled my eyes at the monotone voice coming from behind me. "Did Dean send you to talk to me?" I asked coldly, not turning to look at him.

"It was Sam, actually," Cass replied. I raised my eyebrow.

"Sam? Why?"

The strange man in a trench coat hesitantly sat beside me. "Well, you're Wiccan," he said slowly as if speaking to a child. "And I'm an angel. This must come as a shock to you."

"Shock, yeah. That's an understatement."

"Do you have any questions?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What is this, kindergarten?" He frowned, and I sighed, lighting a smoke and taking a long drag. "There's nothing to ask," I said as I exhaled. "You're an angel. Which means God and Heaven and Hell and everything else I've never believed in really do exist. I've been wrong all this time."

Surprisingly, the angel listened patiently. After a moment of silence, he said, "I've only been on this earth for a short time." I glanced at him, inviting him to continue. "And you know, being an angel," he said awkwardly, "I thought I knew everything there was to know about God's creations. But humans... They're so much more complex than I had imagined." He looked down at his hands thoughtfully, then at me. There was something comforting about Castiel's gaze. It was... warm, friendly. "There are things even angels don't know. For a while, I didn't know where my Father was."

"Your father... God, you mean," I concluded.

He smiled sheepishly. "Yes, God. I didn't know where he was, but I did know that the feeling in my heart couldn't be wrong. I didn't lose my faith."

I shook my head. "Sorry, but... what does this have to do with anything?" I asked, albeit a little rudely.

"What I mean, Anna," he paused, looking for the right words. "It's okay to question things."

I ran my tongue over my teeth. I was fighting back tears and feeling overwhelmed. "I'm not questioning things... I'm _doubting_ them, plain and simple. God, the Bible... None of that ever stuck with me. Wicca is the only thing I've ever known to be true. Now I feel like everything I knew, everything I've learned, is wrong."

Castiel gently put his hand on mine. I resisted the urge to pull back, and instead, let him try to comfort me. I wasn't one for teary-eyed moments, but right now it felt like my world was crumbling. "God is real, Anna. But that doesn't mean your path _isn't_. If in your heart you know Wicca is your path, listen to it. Listen to what your heart tells you."

I scoffed. It sounded like he was quoting some Lifetime movie or something. "My heart's been wrong before," I muttered.

He frowned, doe-eyed. "Then perhaps you should explore both paths, and decide which one feels right."

 _And there it is._ I tugged my hand away, putting out my cigarette on the railing. "Okay, I see where this is going."

"What do you mean?"

"This is the part where you try to convince me, right? That your God is the one true God, or whatever?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, watching me carefully. "Why don't you believe in God?" he asked cautiously.

I stammered, trying to form some kind of answer. It wasn't as though I had decided one day I didn't believe. I just... Wicca was all I knew. The angel waited patiently, eyes daring me to look away. I did, but only because I'd heard the door opening. Sam came out, heading toward the car, laptop bag hanging on his shoulder. Dean followed behind, pausing to turn and call out to me. "We're heading into town to get some grub; you coming?"

I glanced back at Castiel, who was still waiting for an answer. "Yeah, I'm coming, too," I said, heading down the steps leaving Castiel behind me.


	27. Something Old, Something New

**(Sam's POV)**

I found myself continuously checking in the rear view mirror, curious as to how Dean's new... _girlfriend_ was faring with the news of angels being real. Dean didn't seem to give it much thought. I guess, after years of dealing with the supernatural, it was easy to forget how much shock it could put someone into.

Anna sat in the back seat, appearing unfazed, but I didn't quite buy it. "So, Anna, is there anywhere you want to go to eat?" I asked her, hoping to help get her mind off things.

"We just had breakfast like, an hour ago," she replied.

"We're growing boys!" Dean said with a grin. "Breakfast was great by the way, thanks for that."

I gave Dean a sideways glance. _Thanks for that? Man, he really must like this girl._ In all our lives, there had only ever been a few girls I knew of that Dean had actually cared about. I could count them on one hand. Even then, though, it had taken him a long time to open up, or even just get comfortable with them. These two had a connection that I didn't really understand – especially since it developed over only a few days.

"I like this town," Anna said, admiring the view out her window. "It's very... _rustic_."

Dean chuckled. " _Rustic_? How?"

"I don't know. Everything seems so... old, I guess."

" _That's_ new," I said, drawing their attention. Outside my window stood a newly built church – comparable to the rest of the town, a pretty extravagant one, at that. White siding, bright blue window panes and doors, a three-peaked roof with a giant cross on the middle one. It was hard to miss.

"When did that get there," Dean asked in a mumble.

"Not sure," I replied.

Dean slowed the car, squinting to get a better look. He glanced at me. "How long ago did we leave for Illinois?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, a couple weeks ago, maybe?"

"Was that here when we left?"

I raised my eyebrow, wondering why Dean was so interested. "I don't know, man. I mean, maybe, but I don't think so. Why do you care? It's just a church."

He shook his head. "I don't care. I just think it's weird, is all," he said, driving again. "I've never seen a church go up that fast. Why do we even need a second church? What's wrong with the old one?"

"Hey," Anna said quietly, sounding tired, "do you think we could maybe give the church talk a break? Please?"

Dean and I looked at each other. "Sorry," he said.

We drowned out the awkward silence with some music until Dean settled on a place to eat. Sitting at our booth in the diner, we ordered our food and made small talk. It was slightly uncomfortable, and whatever weird connection Anna and Dean had, it didn't make up for the fact that they barely knew each other, and so we didn't really know what to talk about. Besides that, I was itching to know more about this girl. I didn't want to push her too hard, but I definitely wanted a back story, at least.

"So, Anna," I piped up, clearing my throat. Dean raised a brow, but quickly lost focus as our server delivered out food. "Have you always lived in Illinois?"

Hesitantly, she replied, "Ah, no, actually. I moved there a few years ago."

"Where are you from originally?" I asked, eating a handful of fries.

Dean looked between myself and Anna, trying to figure out what my game was. Anna gave him a sideways glance before answering my question. "Oh, I've sort of been around the block. Moved around a lot, you know?" I nodded slowly, taking note of her deflection.

"Hey, this food is pretty good, huh?" Dean asked with a satisfied grin.

"So, where's your family?" I asked, non-chalant.

She scoffed, putting her fork down. "What is this, an interrogation?"

"Sam, what are you doing?" Dean asked sharply.

I grazed my tongue across my teeth. "It's a simple question, Dean. I just thought maybe we should get to know her if she's gonna be with us."

"They're dead," Anna spat. "Like yours." The words sent a shudder down my spine. I glared at Dean – who suddenly didn't look so ready to back Anna up.

"You told her." I said flatly.

Dean put down his burger and sighed, leaning back in his seat. "It was... We had a moment. The subject came up. What does it matter?"

" _What does it matter?_ " I scoffed, standing up. "Right, well, I'll let you two get back to your 'moments'," I said spitefully, tossing some money on the table to cover my meal. "I'm gonna – "

"Sam?"

I paused at the familiar voice coming from behind me. "Sam? That is you!" I turned to see Sherriff Jody Mills, beaming.

"Sherriff Mills, how are you?" I asked, glad to see the familiar face.

"Don't just stand there, give me a hug!" She pulled me in, and Dean stood up to hug her as well. "I'm good! Bobby never told me the Winchesters were back in town! When did you guys get in?"

"Last night, actually," Dean answered.

"You guys staying around for a while?"

"We're not sure yet," I answered.

Jody nodded. She glanced at Anna, still seated, watching us. "Sammy, who's your friend?"

I gave her a puzzled look, then realized she meant Anna. "Oh, that's Anna," I started. "She's – "

"She's with me, actually," Dean interrupted.

I hid my smirk at Jody's surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought – Wait, _really_?"

Anna cleared her throat and sipped on her milkshake, trying to hide a grin of her own.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jody rambled, a little flustered. "I didn't mean for that to be rude."

"It's fine, Sheriff," Dean laughed. "Listen, we're actually just about to get going, but we'll see you again, before the next time we skip town?"

"Oh, yeah, of course! We should all get together, have dinner or something. It was good seeing you, boys. Oh, and, nice to meet you, Anna."

"Oh, hey Sheriff!" Dean called after her before she walked away. "What do you know about that new church?"

"Oh, the one on Pineview?" She shrugged. "Not much. We've been so backed up with paperwork down at the station, I haven't really had a chance to go yet. But a lot of folks seemed to have taken a liking to it."

"How long did it take them to build the thing?"

She pursed her lips, thinking. "You know, come to think of it, I think they must have put it up within a couple of days. I don't even really remember seeing them work on it. It's almost like it just showed up one day."

Dean looked thoughtful. "Doesn't that strike you as weird, at all?"

"Not really," she said matter-of-factly. "You ever see a McDonald's being built?" She smiled wryly and gave us a wink before heading on her way.

"So, Dean," Anna said once Jody was out of earshot, "I take it you don't bring girls home much?"

Dean's face flushed. Still peeved at him, I commented, "Oh, he brings home girls more than you think. They just don't usually stick around more than one night."

"Dude. Not cool," Dean hissed.

I put on my jacket, still planning to walk home. "Sorry, Dean. I thought we were telling her all our secrets. Or, is that just _you_ who gets to pick and choose which ones we tell her?" Dean glowered at me, and I scoffed at his look before turning on my heels and walking away. I couldn't stress to him enough that we didn't know who Anna was. We had no idea what she was capable of. Part of me wondered if Dean had lost all his common sense because he truly did have feelings for her, or if she had him bound to a spell. I didn't really suspect the latter, but if I just went along with everything and something were to happen to Dean, I would never forgive myself for not investigating. So, that's exactly what I decided to do. It was time to do a little more digging on miss Anna Rose.


	28. Alias

**(Dean's POV)**

I was glad that Sam walked back to Bobby's. If he hadn't, I probably would've made him walk anyway. He needed to pull out whatever stick he had up his ass and get his attitude in check. Interrogating Anna was one thing, but making jackass comments at my expense because, why? He was jealous? Pissed off? It was childish.

"Dean..."

I snapped out of it and looked at Anna. "Hm?" She nodded towards my hand, where what had once been a handful of french fries was now reduced to mashed potato. I dropped the mush onto my plate and wiped my hand with a napkin.

"Are you two always like this?" Anna asked.

"Me and Sam? Like what?"

She smirked a little. "Bickering like that; making blows at each other."

I didn't answer. "Come on, let's go," I said instead, regrettably leaving my half eaten meal on the table. I payed for our meal and we went out to the car. "Hey, you wanna just, I dunno, hang out for a bit? Drive around or something?"

Anna grinned. "Because you want to avoid Sam or because you want to check out that church some more?"

I chuckled. "Neither. We haven't really been alone much besides, uh..." I trailed off, recalling most of our "alone time".

She smiled wider. "Oh, you mean besides all that hot, steamy sex," she replied coyly.

A tinge of red emerged on my cheeks. I wasn't embarrassed, but I wasn't used to any girl being so comfortably forward. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

I turned on a Metallica tape and we began cruising around town. There was a silence, and though it was comfortable, I decided to break it and get the conversation flowing. "So," I began, coming to realize my conversation of choice would be not so comfortable, "how are you doing with the whole angels thing?"

Her lips curled into a frown as she shuffled in her seat. "What? That they're real, you mean?"

"Yeah. Like, I dunno, has it clicked in yet?"

"I think it clicked in when a guy in a trench coat appeared out of thin air. That's not what's bothering me so much."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at her quickly before turning my eyes back to the road. "So what is, then?"

"It's..." she sighed. "I'm sure you don't wanna hear it."

A knotting feeling came over my stomach. This had something to do with her witchcraft. I shuddered at the thought. Wicca was something that never sat right with me. It was hard to think such a perfect girl was into that, but everybody has their fatal flaw. In the few days that I'd known Anna, this inexplicable connection we shared was enough to make me care for her – despite how little I knew about her. As much as I disliked her Wiccan practices, I would have to learn to deal with it. "It's the whole Wicca thing, right? God being real and all that has you second guessing it, right?"

Anna rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"No, I'm just asking," I replied defensively.

She paused for a moment. "You ever believe in something so much, that you think nothing could ever make you second guess it? You just believe in it so much, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you just think, this has to be right, the world wouldn't make sense anymore if I didn't have this to believe in."

I thought to myself. An image of Dad came to mind. I grew up worshiping the ground he walked on. I did everything he ever said, without question. It wasn't exactly the same thing, but I guess he was who I believed in growing up. "Yeah, I have, actually."

Mildly surprised, she asked, "How do you think you would feel if one day that thing you believed in just... fell apart?"

In my head, I found myself standing in the dark, next to Sam, the glow of flickering flames lighting our stone cold faces as we burned our father's body. "Heartbroken," I whispered.

"That's how I feel," Anna said softly. "So tell me what I should do about it, because I don't know."

I cleared my throat and blinked a few times, willing away the unwanted memory. "You keep believing in it anyway. Or," I added, "You believe in something new. Or both, even. There's no shame in that. If anything you'll just learn to see things from another perspective." Sam was who I believed in, after Dad's death. We had our fair share of fights, but he was my brother.

The conversation drifted into nothing of importance; jokes, small talk; mocking each other. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I figured anything I _needed_ to know about Anna, I would find out eventually. We headed back towards Bobby's, still chit-chatting along the way. As we passed the newly built church, I found my eyes drawn to it again. I wasn't sure what it was about it, but something just felt... _wrong_.

"Dean, look!" Anna pointed to a pub across the street with an open mic poster in the window. "Can we go? After all the craziness with the whole angel thing, and Kate, and..." She trailed off, presumably because thinking of the woman who was once her best friend made her uncomfortable. "I'd just like to get on stage and sing."

"Sure, we'll head back to the house for a bit and come back when it gets a little later."

When we arrived at Bobby's, Sam was perched at the kitchen table typing on his laptop vigorously. Glancing up as we walked through the door, he said nothing. I wanted to get snappy, but I reminded myself what I'd thought just an hour earlier, about Sam being who I believed in. No use staying mad at each other over a couple of stupid comments. "Hey," I mumbled.

"Hey," he responded, monotone. _At least it's a response._

Anna waved her pack of smokes in front of my face, letting me know she was going out for one. I partly wondered if she did this to allow me and Sam to talk, but I quickly became distracted when Bobby walked in the room.

"Where you been?" he greeted me.

"Out with Anna, driving around. Sam made some kind of disapproving sound and continued typing, but I shrugged it off. "Oh, hey, do you know anything about that new church?" I asked Bobby, pouring myself a glass of water and walking over to lean on the wall behind Sam.

Before Bobby could answer, Sam let out a chuckle. "Dean, why are you so obsessed with that church? That's all it is – _a church_."

"Look, I'm just saying there's something weird about it. I've got a bad feeling."

Sam shook his head, irritating me. " _That_ gives you a bad feeling. You need to reevaluate things, Dean. There are other things we could be looking into. _Should_ be looking into."

I peered over his shoulder at his laptop. I noticed a tab in the browser with Anna's name in it, and another with 'Lizzy Styles,' her stage name. "Like my girlfriend?" I glowered. Sam closed the laptop.

"So she's your girlfriend, now," he repeated.

I shrugged. "Yeah, dude, what am I supposed to call her?"

"All right! That's enough!" an increasingly annoyed Bobby shouted, sitting down across from Sam and pointing at a chair for me to sit, too. "Now let's take this one thing at a time. Dean, you mentioned the new church?"

"Yeah, you know anything about it?"

He shrugged. "I know a lot of folks have taken a liking to it. That's about it. Went up quick, though. Don't know what the rush building it was."

"See?" I shouted. "That's weird, right? It's weird!"

Bobby chuckled. "A little, I guess, Dean, but I wouldn't think too much on it. Like Sam said, it's just a church." I rolled my eyes. "And when it comes to Anna," Bobby continued, "Sam does have a point. I mean, I like the girl..."

 _Looking at her, you mean_ , I thought.

"...but we do really need to find out more about her."

"Like what?" I snapped.

"Well, for one," Sam said, opening his laptop again and spinning it to face me, "why the name Lizzy Styles is connected to more aliases than you and I combined."


	29. Build God and Then We'll Talk

_**(A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while - life's been busy! But I'm trying to make a commitment to myself to update more often. I've still got lots of notes taken down for the future of this story, so I want to make sure you guys stick around for the good stuff :) Don't be afraid to leave a review or subscribe! It's that kinda thing that keeps my inspiration flowing. In other news, If any of you are fans of The 100, I recently started a fanfiction for that, as well! I'm a little nervous because I've never written fanfics for anything but Supernatural, so don't be afraid to check it out and give me your opinion! Enjoy!)**_

 **(Anna's POV)**

I dumped out my makeup bag onto the upstairs bathroom counter. My heart was pounding with excitement to dress as Lizzy again and be performing on a stage, but the raised voices coming from downstairs were putting a damper on it. When I'd come in from my smoke, the immediate silence in the kitchen had made it apparent that the three boys were talking about me. I pretended not to notice and asked if I could take over the bathroom to get ready, but I made sure to leave the bathroom door open a crack so I could try to listen in.

Wetting a cloth with warm water, I wiped my regular face clean. If there was anything I'd learned in leading a double life, it was that changing your makeup style could make you look like a totally different person.

 _But you don't just lead a_ _ **double**_ _life, do you?_

I stared back at my reflection, biting my lip and pushing the intrusive thought away. Sam was going to make things difficult for me here. Dean had been easy to win over – hell, even Bobby had been – but Sam still didn't trust my intentions.

 _And rightfully so_.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I whispered, eyes shut tight as I rubbed my temples.

"I didn't say anything. Until now, I mean."

I suppressed a scream, not wanting to draw attention from the boys downstairs. Besides, there was a familiarity to the voice. I opened my eyes to see the reflection of a man in a trench coat standing behind me. "Do angels always sneak up on girls in the bathroom?" I asked sourly, starting my makeup.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Castiel said, sounding genuine.

"Sam and Dean are downstairs," I mumbled.

"I didn't come here for Sam and Dean." I cocked a brow, watching in the mirror as he took a step closer.

"If you came here to preach at me..." I started.

"I need your help with something."

I turned to face him, intrigued by the sort of eagerness in his voice. My eyes narrowed as I asked him, "Why are you coming to me? Why not Sam and Dean?"

He sighed, circling around me to lean on the counter at my side. "If my suspicions are correct, the Winchesters are useless here."

Useless? He seemed pretty buddy-buddy with them, earlier. Not to mention, the boys were hunters, and if the way they dealt with Kate was any indication, they seemed more than capable of whatever Castiel might throw at them. I walked over to the bathroom door and shut it, noticing the bickering downstairs had subsided. "I'm listening."

"Dean sent me a message earlier," Cas started, "something about a church."

I scoffed, resuming getting ready. "Him and that damned church," I muttered to myself. "Sorry," I added as an afterthought, remembering that I was standing in front of an angel.

Cas shook his head slightly, the sparkle draining from his eyes as a look of contempt washed over him. "It's alright. If there was ever a church that was damned it would be this one." I gave him a sideways glance, curious as to what he meant. "I think Dean was right to be suspicious about the church," he said. "It's not the only one. All over America, churches have been going up in just a matter of days, spanning all the major cities in each state and then some."

"Alright," I shrugged, "so Millennials suddenly have an interest in religion again. Isn't that a good thing for you guys?"

His brow furrowed. "They aren't real churches. The buildings are plastered with sigils – angel warding symbols. I think these are mock churches built by demons."

A burst of laughter escaped my lips. I quickly brought my hand to cover my mouth when Castiel gave me a disheartened frown. "Oh, come on! You can't be serious. Why would demons build a bunch of churches?"

"That's what I need you to find out," he answered.

"And why can't Sam and Dean do this?"

"If I'm right, and it is demons, they'll be recognized. They're too well-known; if they were to get found out I'm worried they'll be significantly outnumbered."

I scoffed slightly, tongue grazing over my teeth. "But if I'm outnumbered, no real loss, right?"

A twinkle of regret flashed through his eyes. "Anna, I..."

"No, it's fine. I get it," I said quietly, averting my gaze. "The Winchester brothers are the big guns. You need them; I'm expendable." He opened his mouth to respond, so I added, "I'll go by tomorrow morning. See what I can find out."

Cas gave me his thanks and departed. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get a hold of him again, but I guess he would be watching me. What a sense of paranoia that gave you – to know there really _were_ eyes on you at all times.

Although, not all the time, it seemed. As far as I could tell, Castiel was unaware of my past. Or maybe I'd just changed my name so much that even Heaven couldn't keep track of me. Either way, I wasn't really worried about running into trouble with demons – While Castiel had viewed me as expendable, _incapable_ was something I was not. Nor was I un-knowledgeable on the subject. If there really were demons, I knew what I was going up against, and I wasn't afraid of them.

 _Wouldn't be the first time._


End file.
